Sounds...

Mais um músico fantástico que me foi dado a conhecer...
Andy McKee, listen and enjoy...

P.S. Obrigada Ricardo.

Talvez por não conhecer ainda bem não consiga verbalizar o que esta música me transmite...

A voz, o som quase etéreo do violino, toda a envolvência fazem com que se torne uma experiência agradável ouvir esta voz que tem por nome Patrick Wolf.

P.S.Obrigada David.

Um misto de emoções...alegria, calma, entusiasmo, lamento, AMOR...
Uma imagem..."corre junto ao mar, livre, com o vento a acariciar-lhe a face...voa..."

Deep Listening Band

Ao meu querido amigo que me deu a conhecer este projecto,
o meu mais sincero obrigado!
O nome dado a este projecto não podia ser mais apropriado, é algo para ouvir de forma profunda, tão profunda quanto o som que nos oferece.



" I must see my life as a work in progress.
Nothing about me is ever final.", Deepak Chopra.

Saudade...

Não podia deixar de reservar um pequeno espaço para os Ashram.
Esta música, tive o privilégio de a tocar "live" com o Alfredo Notarloberti, violinista da banda, que nesse concerto me acompanhou ao piano.

A loro:
Mi manchi tutti...la lontaneza è bruta.I sentimenti sono più grandi che il tempo...

Echos by Shanda

Something i discovered by "accident"... Peacefull... Wish it was longer...

One more thought...

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.", Confucius.

Thoughts...

"The less you open your heart to others, the more your heart suffers.", Deepak Chopra

...

Aconselho a todos os que visitarem este blog a darem uma vista de olhos pelos links que aqui deixo, vale a pena.
São também algumas coisas que me foram dadas a conhecer.
Um destes dias farei posts individuais acerca de cada um dos links.
Para já, enjoy...

"The Moon and the Yew Tree" by Sylvia Plath

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary.
The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.
The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God,
Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility.
Fumy, spirituous mists inhabit this place
Separated from my house by a row of headstones.
I simply cannot see where there is to get to.

The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,
White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet
With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.
Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky—
Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection.
At the end, they soberly bong out their names.

The yew tree points up. It has a Gothic shape.
The eyes lift after it and find the moon.
The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.
Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.
How I would like to believe in tenderness—
The face of the effigy, gentled by candles,
Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes.

I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering
Blue and mystical over the face of the stars.
Inside the church, the saints will be all blue,
Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews,
Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.
The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.
And the message of the yew tree is blackness—blackness and silence.

"Mad Girl's Love Song" by Sylvia Plath

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The Lake

Music for the soul...As long as simple exists...Emotions will always be alive...

Cripple and The Starfish

Achei que esta música tão simples merecia o estatuto de primeira neste blog tão simples...
Enjoy...

A primeira...

A minha primeira mensagem neste blog serve penas para vos dizer que será um prazer partilhar com todos as músicas e textos que irão fazer parte deste simples espaço.
A todos desejo muita música, muita paz e , acima de tudo, uma vida repleta de sentido...