You live on street. Act quickly, without any sense, as the wind that blows where he pleases. Chaos? primitive element? ...stirring the cauldron full of cultures and no-cultures…and the real life begins.
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/For Trevor, from far abroad
You live on street. Act quickly, without any sense, as the wind that blows where he pleases. Chaos? primitive element? ...stirring the cauldron full of cultures and no-cultures…and the real life begins.
---
/For Trevor, from far abroad
You live on street. Act quickly, without any sense, as the wind that blows where he pleases. Chaos? primitive element? ...stirring the cauldron full of cultures and no-cultures…and the real life begins.
---
/For Trevor, from far abroad
You live on street. Act quickly, without any sense, as the wind that blows where he pleases. Chaos? primitive element? ...stirring the cauldron full of cultures and no-cultures…and the real life begins.
---
/For Trevor, from far abroad
You live on street. Act quickly, without any sense, as the wind that blows where he pleases. Chaos? primitive element? ...stirring the cauldron full of cultures and no-cultures…and the real life begins.
---
/For Trevor, from far abroad
This is where the dream of free flight lives.
---
1) Announcement:
"Engineer M.S. Los invites willing to fly with him on August 18 on the planet Mars to appear for personal talks from 6 to 8 pm Zhdanovskaya Embankment, 11, in the yard…
To listen when timelessness.
~The road to the heights of knowledge is never easy, but it exists~
Also:
"He was asleep when the boy looked in the door in the morning. It was blowing so hard that the drifting-boats would not be going out…
Voice. The voice of one man. Does this mean anything?
I mean, one person says to the world, to people, to infinity. Of course, we talk and it always refers to contemporaries, but do they understand it? Whether the person understands them? Do…
Smoke of the past
The shadow of experiences
What was not
But could have been
~
For Kevin Scot Sparks, Painter-Prof., All-Age Mentor & Trumpeter-Producer
Smoke of the past
The shadow of experiences
What was not
But could have been
~
For Kevin Scot Sparks, Painter-Prof., All-Age Mentor & Trumpeter-Producer
What a treasure these marbles! Colorful, transparent, with or without stripes... Let's play?
---
For Bee.
Also:
Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced…
What a treasure these marbles! Colorful, transparent, with or without stripes... Let's play?
---
For Bee.
Also:
Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced…
What a treasure these marbles! Colorful, transparent, with or without stripes... Let's play?
---
For Bee.
Also:
Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced…
We played played marbles in the sun
Sure It was a lot of fun
Till mother called and we had to run
Boy did we run run and run
Leaving our marbles baking in the sun
For lunch we had jam sandwiches and a Chelsea bun
I'll never forget that summer fun.......
What a treasure these marbles! Colorful, transparent, with or without stripes... Let's play?
---
For Bee.
Also:
Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced…
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…
JMT said it very well,,classical drifts, perhaps you channel Chopin at times or Monet? i was able to spend time in the Muse de Orsey this summer, getting lost on the upper floor with the impressionists,,,, i stand there getting/falling into the pictures while others pass by as shadows,,, this piece is so much like that, a place of refuge in a troubled time,, excellent and thanks r
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
...go array - That's it!
For all the plans of mice & men the best plans go array!!
Thank you!
Wonderful!
magic......
He stooped and then began stirring the cauldron with his wand..............and the magic began
and a lovely time was had by all....
So lovely a thought and such a pretty melody. Thank you Igor, Peace, Bethan
Lovely! I'll look forward to the finished version
Smoke of the past The shadow of experiences What was not But could have been ~ Yeah...
The blue of the day clashes with the dark of the night to create the sweet music of melancholie......
Fabulous! w;-)
makes me wonder if Bach ever played marbles, very nice fun
We played played marbles in the sun Sure It was a lot of fun Till mother called and we had to run Boy did we run run and run Leaving our marbles baking in the sun For lunch we had jam sandwiches and a Chelsea bun I'll never forget that summer fun.......
Thank you Igor. This is very vigorous and fun. Well played Sir! Love the atmosphere and great sound engineering. Cheers Bee
I love all these pearl but I believe this one loves me best.......
A lost DaNny Kay dance routine ......found just in the nick of time.....
Beautifully played.....
JMT said it very well,,classical drifts, perhaps you channel Chopin at times or Monet? i was able to spend time in the Muse de Orsey this summer, getting lost on the upper floor with the impressionists,,,, i stand there getting/falling into the pictures while others pass by as shadows,,, this piece is so much like that, a place of refuge in a troubled time,, excellent and thanks r
wonderful......
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.