It was a few strange April days in our little town of Bad Münder. The sky was low and completely filled (with clouds?), and a yellowish light spread as if from below, and from everywhere. Irene had said at the time that it must have been the wind…
It was a few strange April days in our little town of Bad Münder. The sky was low and completely filled (with clouds?), and a yellowish light spread as if from below, and from everywhere. Irene had said at the time that it must have been the wind…
...and suddenly I realise it's Christmas Eve, and it's The Day Before. Years have passed and you don't expect anything special for a long time, and at least in Lower Saxony there is no snow, at all. But the magic of the childhood is still there…
...and suddenly I realise it's Christmas Eve, and it's The Day Before. Years have passed and you don't expect anything special for a long time, and at least in Lower Saxony there is no snow, at all. But the magic of the childhood is still there…
I write letters, but I don't send them and they go unanswered. I take them out and rewrite them, picking up the words and clarifying the meanings. I wait in hope that a reply will come someday.
I continue the conversation when it's long over…
Someday there will come a time when there will be no Monday. And there will be no need to remember about work or to follow the schedules. For some, it is temporary, for someone forever.
For Anton
06.06.2021
Robert Frost - On Looking Up…
Lebenslinie (Life Line)
Life, if you look back at your own one, or at the stories of others, often seems to be presented as an ornate line. This line is trying to branch out, but since a person is indivisible, that lifeline is always one, but…
Unless of course your life is out of control and the path spirals ending the center of the island after circling for the same answer again and again and never finding it
I write letters, but I don't send them and they go unanswered. I take them out and rewrite them, picking up the words and clarifying the meanings. I wait in hope that a reply will come someday.
I continue the conversation when it's long over…
I write letters, but I don't send them and they go unanswered. I take them out and rewrite them, picking up the words and clarifying the meanings. I wait in hope that a reply will come someday.
I continue the conversation when it's long over…
I write letters, but I don't send them and they go unanswered. I take them out and rewrite them, picking up the words and clarifying the meanings. I wait in hope that a reply will come someday.
I continue the conversation when it's long over…
I write letters, but I don't send them and they go unanswered. I take them out and rewrite them, picking up the words and clarifying the meanings. I wait in hope that a reply will come someday.
I continue the conversation when it's long over…
I write letters, but I don't send them and they go unanswered. I take them out and rewrite them, picking up the words and clarifying the meanings. I wait in hope that a reply will come someday.
I continue the conversation when it's long over…
Someday there will come a time when there will be no Monday. And there will be no need to remember about work or to follow the schedules. For some, it is temporary, for someone forever.
For Anton
06.06.2021
Robert Frost - On Looking Up…
Whistling a tune, I walk up to the house and meet a cat on the doorstep. We are going to have supper, and at this time a blizzard begins. April.
05.04.2021, live recording.
Whistling a tune, I walk up to the house and meet a cat on the doorstep. We are going to have supper, and at this time a blizzard begins. April.
05.04.2021, live recording.
Goldfishes tell fairy tales to each other, slowly moving their tails and fins as if moving the air with their Chinese fans. They do not mind that we listen to these stories too. After all, everything is in there: simple joys, and emotional experiences…
This is not the same ponderous endless time being that was mentioned by someone, somewhere. But rather I touch the water lightly and expecting the circles to disappear. And again.
This is not the same ponderous endless time being that was mentioned by someone, somewhere. But rather I touch the water lightly and expecting the circles to disappear. And again.
As you age, as you improve your speaking skills and gain experience, you try to speak to others more accurately and concisely. And immediately you are faced with the problem that you have nothing to say, or with the fact that most of what is said…
Midday field. I watch the lark, which serenely rises in circles up to dissolve there, forever. He sees no danger around. Why [should] I care?
---
I recall that in childhood we all watch adventure films (or performances), and here the children…
Actor: me too, Trev. There is definitely a difference in roles since childhood, but how it affects us humans is not known. Creators and users? Listeners and performers? Probably deeper. Not worse, just deeper. I wonder of how it will be for AI 👀
A short improvisation inspired by A Midsummer Night's Dream
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear."
- William Shakespeare
To Eliza...
Igor sent me over this excellent Guitar track and Tiny was created.....Thanks Igor
Tiny (Lyrics)
Tiny was a lonely man, who drifted slowly through his life
with everything piled up inside his mind, like a layer ice below new snow
he couldn…
Well that didn't last long Reg felt something wrong so he's moving on to pastures new..........it got Reg feeling Jazzy......
Time to go (Lyrics)
Theres something in your smile that tells me its time for me to go
when i ask if everything is ok…
I went over to Reg's place the other day and he sort of scared me. He was out on his deck, pitching butts and spilling gin that he couldn't afford. He was a mess and had a crazed look in his eyes. I could tell he was ruminating again about…
I went over to Reg's place the other day and he sort of scared me. He was out on his deck, pitching butts and spilling gin that he couldn't afford. He was a mess and had a crazed look in his eyes. I could tell he was ruminating again about…
...and that the business is? Yeah! - and what's he building in there? ...what was built, finally? Knock-knocking, what they do - it is unclear. We have a rights to know! ;-)
Instead of being someone else:
Today, we're dreamers
And tomorrow, too.
We men, who sang, and played and lived by it.
All the time, lived it.
Well, don't we all fools,
Someone else's tools?
I like the vocals,
I like the organ grinder,
In a red velvet jacket,
Smoked.
I don't understand what it was about,
But it doesn't matter
Emotions speaks for themselves.
~
Gene has woven his magic again around the music for this cover by Boston...and also done a hell of job on the mix too..Thanks Gene for letting me play....hope you enjoy
Comments on igor's stuff
very excellent work! Thank you for sharing!
Just beautiful as always
Merry Christmas be sure to go to bed early
Simply gorgeous! Thank you! Wishing a warm and lovely Christmas to you and yours.
So that’s who wrote the letter I didn’t receive I sent a telegram but forgot to write the message
Beautifully played expected like the rising sun
Unless of course your life is out of control and the path spirals ending the center of the island after circling for the same answer again and again and never finding it
I agree with the hauntingly beautiful …….you must be a ghost
Beautiful piece. A melancholy feeling.
Nicely done. Lots of emotion in your playing.
Just fabulous - stunning!
hauntingly beautiful... what a poignant and terribly sad concept you pose in the description...
Wow. Delightful. Conjures many images in my head.
To some snow cements that winter is here to stay To others a sign spring is on its way
Very nice! You kept that opening chord progression peppered throughout. Well crafted and dreamy!
Beautiful
indeed beautiful!
I could listen to this gorgeous music all day
beautiful
Actor: me too, Trev. There is definitely a difference in roles since childhood, but how it affects us humans is not known. Creators and users? Listeners and performers? Probably deeper. Not worse, just deeper. I wonder of how it will be for AI 👀
Comments made by igor
~Bless the Roaring Bear~
Thank you everybody who listened. To Greg: this is Sitar tone, here i use Jupiter 80 and Integra 7, in chain.
...The course of true love...
~ it drifts along, so slow like snow dissolves ~ following Trev
O! ~ life drifts along, so slow like snow dissolves ... of that day ahead ~
Isn't this renaissance chateau, under the arches of which I walked, once...
He told he wanna disappear before it turns (off?) He told "I gotta get it gone" I know he was wrong, I thought I knew... ... Blues, All blues
...he has got his Baton back, stepped out to lights, dimmed........in an empty room, without an audience, he could afford everything, but...
~in doodling we trust~
~elf dance~
He tells a story that begins in the distance, then approaching and passing by, and again... ~Music is to live~
this is awesome, just awesome!
...and that the business is? Yeah! - and what's he building in there? ...what was built, finally? Knock-knocking, what they do - it is unclear. We have a rights to know! ;-)
Snow falls so, quietly begins and ends quietly, too.
Instead of being someone else: Today, we're dreamers And tomorrow, too. We men, who sang, and played and lived by it. All the time, lived it. Well, don't we all fools, Someone else's tools?
Brilliant::..
Hello, friend. Long time no see, right? Here you finally came, My lovely And long-awaiting Headache. I'm falling slowly down... ~where was the love?~
I like the vocals, I like the organ grinder, In a red velvet jacket, Smoked. I don't understand what it was about, But it doesn't matter Emotions speaks for themselves. ~
Well, let me stay with More Than a Feeling, though.
An emaciated dude; rock music swaying, going away...