Taking a lie as truth, taking useless things as large and grand, I unwittingly contributed to the decrease of the common spirit. How to turn back? It seemed no way ...
But now, creating a works of art, no matter how naive they are, I see the…
Taking a lie as truth, taking useless things as large and grand, I unwittingly contributed to the decrease of the common spirit. How to turn back? It seemed no way ...
But now, creating a works of art, no matter how naive they are, I see the…
Sometimes the past in which you felt successful and strong, reminds of fragility of life. It's a sign of that you are in a point of transition and you should make a choice. Or the choice will be made for you. For me.
~for Geoffrey~
Sometimes the past in which you felt successful and strong, reminds of fragility of life. It's a sign of that you are in a point of transition and you should make a choice. Or the choice will be made for you. For me.
~for Geoffrey~
Nobody knows how, what it will be - the future. We look at it, trying to see, to detect something and ... it goes fade, it's always receding, receding ...
~sonaresque~
Nobody knows how, what it will be - the future. We look at it, trying to see, to detect something and ... it goes fade, it's always receding, receding ...
~sonaresque~
It was a sketch for the final topic of amateur black and white film (a.k.a. "Ñlosing credits"), then not used, then forgotten. Then recalled and now free.
~For Trevor, who bravely fights with the ghost from the cellar. Spirit[uals]~
It was a sketch for the final topic of amateur black and white film (a.k.a. "Ñlosing credits"), then not used, then forgotten. Then recalled and now free.
~For Trevor, who bravely fights with the ghost from the cellar. Spirit[uals]~
Nobody knows how, what it will be - the future. We look at it, trying to see, to detect something and ... it goes fade, it's always receding, receding ...
~sonaresque~
It was a sketch for the final topic of amateur black and white film (a.k.a. "Ñlosing credits"), then not used, then forgotten. Then recalled and now free.
~For Trevor, who bravely fights with the ghost from the cellar. Spirit[uals]~
It was a sketch for the final topic of amateur black and white film (a.k.a. "Ñlosing credits"), then not used, then forgotten. Then recalled and now free.
~For Trevor, who bravely fights with the ghost from the cellar. Spirit[uals]~
Nobody knows how, what it will be - the future. We look at it, trying to see, to detect something and ... it goes fade, it's always receding, receding ...
~sonaresque~
Nobody knows how, what it will be - the future. We look at it, trying to see, to detect something and ... it goes fade, it's always receding, receding ...
~sonaresque~
Together with a few guitaresque pieces (some are presented here, "Lettres 'D Amour" or "Mar Adentro" for example), this one was my "swan song" in already so distant 2009.
~Sign Of Hope~
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
Together with a few guitaresque pieces (some are presented here, "Lettres 'D Amour" or "Mar Adentro" for example), this one was my "swan song" in already so distant 2009.
~Sign Of Hope~
~timeless~
Rhythms of modern life, which comes from the environment and force us to follow, are often (let say, always) does not correspond to our inner rhythms. First, we do not have time to stop, think, or simply do nothing. Then when we…
I do not think that the Snow Queen will weep forever - no. She is The Queen, not a human woman or so, she will act, thru the ages (how? - that's the question. We'll never know). Ahead of her - eternity. Forever. Or so.
Together with a few guitaresque pieces (some are presented here, "Lettres 'D Amour" or "Mar Adentro" for example), this one was my "swan song" in already so distant 2009.
~Sign Of Hope~
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
Dreamy piece Igor! Yes, it's never too late to turn around, I think you see it very clearly! Lovely touch there, perfectly played.
poetic piano in the dark.... wonderful....
...same for me, Trevor.
still reminds me of a cloudy day in Berlin
Definitely, gives the sense of euphoria.
I'm at the bottom of the beautiful brimey sea........looking up to the surface....but I can breath....
Very nice Igor
Totally enchanting!
Don't worry about tomorrow - tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Great space!
nicely done
And now a little bit spooky.....cheers
Now I feel all spacey".......thank you
sounds like the Andromeda Strain soundtrack, which I am still searching for. Very good sir.
Nice! Has a great swing about it!
Absolutely beautiful! w;-)
This is very good Igor nice one
I do not think that the Snow Queen will weep forever - no. She is The Queen, not a human woman or so, she will act, thru the ages (how? - that's the question. We'll never know). Ahead of her - eternity. Forever. Or so.
Yeah! Dust off the tap dancing shoes. I love this!
Very nice Igor
Quietly intimate!
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.