The time will come and our grand-grand-grandchildren will not know how open and easy we (at least some of us) were. How we was loved, grieve, fought-then-reconciled. ...and again, again.
~vintage synths do not tolerate midi/programming/planning…
~ Observation Affects Reality ~ (as used to say Schrödinger's cat)
Schrödinger's cat: A pussycat, along with a flask containing a poison and a radioactive source, is placed in a sealed box shielded against environmentally induced quantum decoherence…
Sounds like the day after all the snow began to melt and the sun came out and it all evaporated, the mist blocking the sun...the light dancing in the chemistry of the x-snowflakes...
~ Observation Affects Reality ~ (as used to say Schrödinger's cat)
Schrödinger's cat: A pussycat, along with a flask containing a poison and a radioactive source, is placed in a sealed box shielded against environmentally induced quantum decoherence…
~ Observation Affects Reality ~ (as used to say Schrödinger's cat)
Schrödinger's cat: A pussycat, along with a flask containing a poison and a radioactive source, is placed in a sealed box shielded against environmentally induced quantum decoherence…
Thank you Igor.
My question, "Why" was because I could not understand why anyone unless very cruel would think it ok to put a cat through such misery.
I realise now that it was not real.
Cheers Bethan
With My Sister Kathy Bores
Last Waltz Of The Evening
The last waltz of the evening
Last dance of the night
I’m making the most of each beat of my heart
Music plays and I’m holding you so tight
Hard to see it come to an end
But it’s going to…
To be true to yourself - how is it? True to the sound that you retrieved from the instrument, to give [share] it away to others (to whom? you'll never know)? True to the mood that you're trying to follow, and which changes before you realize what…
Maybe I missed a career scoring for no budget spaghetti westerns, because this is what this reminds me of. Done live a couple weeks ago with the Taylor and a floor full of toys and loopers.
Maybe a career, or a time...
"Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We're going to have to earn it." (as Blondie write it on a rock in the middle of the graveyard and as well as tells it to Tuco and Angel Eyes)
A bit of improv done yesterday with my newly refurbished fretless guitar. Finally got the midi pickup to track almost right! Part of the sounds were gotten by rubbing a teaspoon on the strings.
i was trying to work on a piece for a shark video of mine, but this is what came out instead,, my piano moments collections are the small musical threads that emerge amongst/while i am working/thinking about other things,,,
In Memorium Of: Carlos Heller
El Guitarrista
A song for a man that has played to thousands who passed him in church street whilst he busked with all his heart.
This song is to pay tribute to a man that inspired me to play Live. I even had…
For you to speakSo it seems we lost our voice
Stripped down bare on copper line
Raw to subtle ears
I wait
On the line
I wait for you to speak
Of some good news to hear
While we talk ....
Can you speak your mind
I still wait for that old voice…
~
One voice, covered with dust,
Finally made his way
Through the copper lines,
Where for many years there was nothing.
Only the sound of the trumpet, sad, calling.
The life means....
~
Feel So Blue
Shes the kinda lady I've wanted all my life
The kinda lady that you want to make your wife
Once i found her I never stop the chase
I didn't want my entire life to turn out to be a waste
So I told her that I loved he…
Summer Sun
Sitting in the summer sun
The heat warms the soul
Sitting reminiscing
Got no particular place go
life is all around me
The motion of the birds and bees
Is like heaven to me
Heaven to me
I lay out in an open field
Making…
Saturday morning, the day off with an iPad on the sofa; listening to alonetoners. Svetlana: "...the one who sings now - who?" me: "this is Brett from Illinois". She: "Hmm, let's hear more of his music. Interesting voice"
One for the Musical i think a gin soaked Tramp semiconscious laying collapse on his back……………………
He wants to fly (Lyrics)
The nights memories
Fade when he lies
Looking up to a polka dotted sky
Falling backwards into a gin Soaked to the skin…
He said to himself: "I will not want to fly"
He kept saying: "'cause I do not want to!"
Wax dripped and dripped, tears ...
No one wanted to fall down,
But too late: you took off already.
"Higher!", as they said.
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
Waiting for something that would be: familiar feeling, isn't it? We look forward to when she comes back, look forward to when the morning comes; waiting to stop the rain (or when will finally rain...).
Life itself is a... waiting?
Note…
..they recently moved in, watched telly, so-so, and... a neighbor, according to the old-fashioned custom, decided to go with the cake, get to know them and all that. Who'd have known?
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
As turning the pages of memory, randomly and lento. All that I know, is seen not as it was actually, but with age and experience (...dusted?). How can I forget? Do I need to?
~Kudamm distant bells ringing not for me, not for us, not for who…
The amazing thing, Trev, is that it is impossible to discover the forgotten, we can only try, and then, if successful, you will receive a "recollection of memories", also different from one time to another. That in itself is interesting, but sometimes it has nothing to do with reality, as I understand.
Note: I write this from the train, from Berlin to Hamburg.
Comments on igor's stuff
A-D-O-R-E.
Beautiful...absolutely lovely.
So evocative. We who are alone see pictures when we hear things like this...swirling sounds and longing gathered into the dark wet blanket of sand...
and a wonderful reflective morning it was to
Sounds like the day after all the snow began to melt and the sun came out and it all evaporated, the mist blocking the sun...the light dancing in the chemistry of the x-snowflakes...
...and these sad snowflakes, they fall slowly and painfully. They are burdened with the knowledge that they will soon melt away***
Snowflakes...this sounds like musical snowflakes falling on piano keys...
I love autumn. You capture it perfectly.
Beautiful piano music, great sound!
tick tick tick .........
Enlightened despair...amor
November perfect! Alone in the great hall....piano notes raining down.....Красивые ноября
very beautiful and elegant my friend
What a beautiful track, Igor...
This is beautiful! w;-)
Nice "new-age"-ish piece, with echos of Chopin. Nothing yet invnted surpasses a nice grand piano.
Another Beauty Igor!
Inventive and free. Is the cat like a tree falling in a forest?
Oh my word, well played!
Thank you Igor. My question, "Why" was because I could not understand why anyone unless very cruel would think it ok to put a cat through such misery. I realise now that it was not real. Cheers Bethan
Comments made by igor
~All things will pass, yeah...~
~Aamu suolla, aina sumuinen aina~ Nice vocals, finnish, unreal.
~under the sign of redshift~ (merkin alla punasiirtymä:)
Sometimes the mood is like water in a creek, flowing, changing, and no one knows where it lead... (to Kirk:)
Maybe a career, or a time... "Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We're going to have to earn it." (as Blondie write it on a rock in the middle of the graveyard and as well as tells it to Tuco and Angel Eyes)
~tea for six, fretless; slipping up~
~Silenzio è ipnotizzante~
~guitarra real~
~ One voice, covered with dust, Finally made his way Through the copper lines, Where for many years there was nothing. Only the sound of the trumpet, sad, calling. The life means.... ~
You're The Man, Trev.
I listening to it. I flying away.
Saturday morning, the day off with an iPad on the sofa; listening to alonetoners. Svetlana: "...the one who sings now - who?" me: "this is Brett from Illinois". She: "Hmm, let's hear more of his music. Interesting voice"
He said to himself: "I will not want to fly" He kept saying: "'cause I do not want to!" Wax dripped and dripped, tears ... No one wanted to fall down, But too late: you took off already. "Higher!", as they said.
Soldiers on the ground, Have won, How many of them already? How many more will be? I want to be a hero, Too...
Life itself is a waiting, if you try to plan it. What if you do not plan, but just to live?
..they recently moved in, watched telly, so-so, and... a neighbor, according to the old-fashioned custom, decided to go with the cake, get to know them and all that. Who'd have known?
to drorkesser: it is a delay with "tail decay".
Great one, I really like (and proud about) it. Let us think about new one, Trev.
...and thank you all for listening, brothers.
The amazing thing, Trev, is that it is impossible to discover the forgotten, we can only try, and then, if successful, you will receive a "recollection of memories", also different from one time to another. That in itself is interesting, but sometimes it has nothing to do with reality, as I understand. Note: I write this from the train, from Berlin to Hamburg.