Igor ... You have the touch.

In the end, does this mean that when we are listening to and commenting on the tracks, thereby affect them, to the authors, and even to ourselves? That's what I tried to say here, probably :-)

Why Schrodinger and his cat is here? Generally it is a thought experiment in quantum physics, the cat is taken here as an example (Erwin Schrodinger was fond of cats). The point here is that: the observer (not a person but rather the instrument) affects the experiment, even if he/she "just" watching it. Well, where does the music, you ask. I will answer this way: a person has more than one language for two-way communication and understanding of the outside world: dance, taste, smell, music, mathematics, poetry / speech. And using them, the person goes to, and affects the outside world, even if he thinks that it is not. No one can be impartial observer. That's the question: what about our inner world? And in general there is it? As for this song: it will be updated soon, with chorale and radio transmissions, in two parts, as excerpts from the local long lenght album.

But why? Anyway, an atmospheric piece, well composed and performed Igor.

Ahh! A lovely time of year and this sounds just like it. The leaves are peaking right now in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Wonderful piece of work!

Such great movement in the piece--the theme of detaching and losing oneself.

That is so lovely Igor.

In harmony with the story, perfect.

Very melancholy but tender.

The Dark Riders are near. Wish this were 10 times longer!

Just gorgeous!

Hauntingly...stellar. Beautifully recorded.

This is absolutely beautiful! w;-)

superb fingerings and ambience

really nice, light touch and phrasing,,, graceful

nicely done

Igor ... You have the touch!

such a sad sad Thursday.........lunchtimes over......back to work we go sad sullen but strangely uplifted.....

another listen for sad sad Thursday before the snow comes and everything becomes joyful for Christmas.......

~...he was just stutterer, Reggy~ I was here until the end and realized not all, of what was here. Why d-do they look at-t-t me, hmm? :-)

Dry lines of newspaper reports that day, including: Desirae Loy, also known as *Johnny's Girl*, said: I swear he don't trust me no more that or he is realy *jelouse*

~and finally to fight~ Finally: the struggle of opposites, the conflict between light and darkness, inconsistencies of beginning and end. Type of music: the Messiah. Or what we understand as it is.

Assured of that morning has already come, the person, hardly having risen, has approached to a window. "Here you are, my old friend Madness" - he thought, and stepped forward. The wall did not succumb, though. The windows were not. ~no way out~

How wonderful to hear this - the successor of real Apple/Parlophone sound/nature.

The path to liberation - is a fraud, and he, of course, well aware of this when paying for the record [that you could get for free]. in fact, that money was for...

1st voice: how, he still reads newspapers? 2nd voice, answers: probably yes ... 1st voice bewilderment: why does he do it? Third voice (presumably female): he thinks it it the way to join the world. 1st voice, thoughtfully: Yeah ... How much he still must go to ... ~communication breakdown~

~Angry Roller~

It makes me well. And brave.

~Dead.Can.Dance~

~visitor to the cellar of the soul that waits. Waits for the opera to come~

~hardly way to see you~ I knew a guy who is very early married a girl with the same name as this song. They lived-lived, have "amassed" three sons, a bobcat and no treasures but friends. I don't be surprised if I find out that they live so far, and enjoy that The Man with the funny scarf sings a wonderful song about them. Miracle.

~here is a Rush voice~

O!

...and resumed to sound to the now empty room, for the empty room...

~immersed~ They all said: Do not go in blues so deep, don't. I did not listen and slid down, down. It was cool, was cool, then cold. And who remembers me now as someone who trudged from the sounds of Led Zep, eh?

~and there was no danger~

~in a mellow tune~

~sweetheart of mine~

~too heavy a burden~ ... he'll never wake up, nor to fly off. He calls it the "blues-soul-comes-out". He still remains with us, the poor sinners. We, however, only do not know: to rejoice over it, or what? Yeah-h... ~that's true, baby, true~