Largo úr sónötu fyrir píanó og selló , op. 65

Á vængjum söngsins ,op. 34 , nr. 2

Fagurt kvöld

Jewish Sephardic , Sien Drahmas Al Dia ,Ladino , Yamma Trio

Bob Dylan , Idiot Wind (Audio)

Myndir á þili , Allt með sykri og rjóma

Bob Dylan , If Not for You (Audio)

Bob Dylan , Desolation Row (Audio)

Debussy , Rêverie

Bob Dylan , Lay Lady Lay

Bob Dylan , Shelter from the Storm (Audio)

Tomorrow Is A Long Time, Bob Dylan

Porpora , Nel già bramoso petto ,Jaroussky

Dove sei, amato bene ,Handel , Jaroussky

The Corrie Folk Trio , Love Is Teasin'

Bob Dylan , All Along the Watchtower (Audio)

There must be some way out of here
Said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine
Plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line
Know what any of it is worth
No reason to get excited
The thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now
The hour is getting late
All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants, too
Outside in the distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
The wind began to howl

skin and walls

life, colour,sound,forms,patterns, breathing, fluidity, vulnerability,permeability of skin and impermanence..moving, continuous transformation and exchange in inter-dependence.
not walls, skin, skin as part of out and in.
the scientist would see a cell and discern the outer border and the inner core.
this is dissection.
it is all one living organism and will be seen as part of all living beings.
not walls...not mere borders...breath and skin and fluidity, all is one.
our soul and our senses and our skin, all one.
and now i go to 'work'.

diary note, loss and strength, mistery, belonging

one side i often felt that many american men cannot confront loss, cannot lose..born to win or to seek refuge with mother.
they see strength in winning...

i see strength just as well in accepting loss, in losing.. and this as winning another kind of freedom.

another side, we may all  get a bit too used to loss. and this could not end with mere detachment but with indifference. then somebody will say ‚just' loss. this is a de-humanizing game. intellectual shit.

and a reductive way of life will be the result. all means nothing, then why stay alive?

i am finding relief to see that all matters , every human is unique to me and nobody exists ‚out'.

life is still a mistery.

but- mind you, i will always dislike definitions of mistery, platitudes, generalizations, comparisons and evaluations. some are at least good for a laugh...

and by the way, so called romantics are not brainless frogs:
the may roast in hell but they feel the pain.

evasion of suffering is not a solution i am looking for.

did you know, these days it appears that one can buy this..drugs, medicine,books, audio, video, courses,
one can join a religion,
a guru.
really, i prefer a glass of vodka because then i know what i do, a walk in the hills, the scent of pine trees and of seaweed, music which takes
me out or any way of meditation which does not require a new alphabet.

all this helps- but there is no way out of suffering only attitude.
one's own meaning and passion and love.

and there is joy and even happiness happens.

we cannot keep what does not belong to us:
this is what we must all learn that nothing at all belongs to us.

we belong to where we are.here. now.




Von meinem iPhone gesendet

Thelonious Monk , Misterioso

Alice Coltrane , Turiya And Ramakrishna

Forbidden Tears , john zorn

Sibelius ,Violin concerto, Oistrakh

Philippe Jaroussky , Mentre dormi amor fomenti, Vivaldi

diary note, alone

i don't know why i had to be so alone for the last years.
again and again i was told that i am not.
but: i was.
it is not about words. not at all.
presence is presence...
and today i feel it. the wound is still sore.

Leonard Cohen , Who by fire

Vo solcando un mar crudele,Johann Christian Bach ,Philippe Jaroussky

The Corries , Lord Of The Dance

I danced in the morning when the world was begun And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth At Bethlehem I had my birth Dance, then, wherever you may be I am the lord of the dance, said he I lead you all, wherever you may be I lead you all in the dance, said he I danced for the scribes and the Pharisees They wouldn't dance, they wouldn't follow me I danced for the fishermen for James and John They came with me so the dance went on Dance, then, wherever you may be I am the lord of the dance, said he I lead you all, wherever you may be I lead you all in the dance, said he I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame The holy people said it was a shame They ripped, and they stripped, and they hung me high Left me there on the cross to die Dance, then, wherever you may be I am the lord of the dance, said he I lead you all, wherever you may be I lead you all in the dance, said he I danced on a Friday and the sky turned black It's hard to dance with the devil on your back They buried my body, and they thought I was gone But I am the dance, and the dance goes on Dance, then, wherever you may be I am the lord of the dance, said he I lead you all, wherever you may be I lead you all in the dance, said he They cut me down but I leapt up high I am the life that will never, never die I'll live in you if you'll live in me I am the Lord of the dance, said he Dance, then, wherever you may be I am the lord of the dance, said he I lead you all, wherever you may be I lead you all in the dance, said he

The Corries , Annie Laurie

Glimpses of Erin, 1934

The Corrie Folk Trio , Uist Tramping Song

diary note, trance, imagination

today in a trance, told to look for a safe place, maybe with castle walls and a ditch around me,
i spent some time around Mombasa, Diani Beach. i listened to the waves and the wind in the rainy season, lost me in blue.
and thought that walls do not exist. i come back to yesterday's notes.
only- i can build walls around me, around a  garden, whenever i need this, whenever i seek protection, of course. but i can never forget that all walls are built in imagination first-
and that they are nothing permanent.

leonard cohen, dance me to the end of love

Canned Heat , On The Road Again [HQ]

Snowy White , Riding the Blues

Made in Japan, Josef Hoflehner

The Corries , Lewis Bridal Song

Jacqueline du Pré , Daniel Barenboim , Brahms, Cello Sonata No. 2, Op.90,II.

diary note, reflection and reaction, separation and attitude

she wrote that she knows how i feel
and that i do not have the imagination to know how and what  she feels.
both is untrue,
a simplified way to deal with the complexity and essence of other humans.

i don't give the easy way out. my way has not been easy.
so.

i am glad i left this circle of reductive analytic views, 
play instead of honest answers
and care felt but not given.
maybe empathy is a gift, maybe it can be learned. i don't worry now.
i am glad i am out of my instinctive reactions, my hope, my illusion , my fight.
i know nothing is meant a bad way, just: i am out.
nobody needs this,  a game to lead across an abyss, a deep inner struggle.

i wouldn't want to say i understand her.
and more so, i am way out of wanting to understand.
explanations are no use anyway, i don't need my nor her exculpations.

nobody is guilty. nobody is less than another,
nobody is superior,
in the end all what counts is fairly ineffable,
but it is not words.

and we always come back to one's very own meaning
and need and feeling.
how could anybody take it away?
how could anybody tell me it is 'just' my understanding of meaning.
no. it is mine.

when needs be: be hard as a doornail, be stubborn, go through the wall.
this is what walls are there for.
life is not meant as a prison.
for none of us.

and nothing is so separate as it may look...
none of us is so totally independent.
no being is on this earth.
this is freedom, to see and to feel this.
i doubt that there is so much other freedom than attitude.

Horowitz , Schubert, Impromptu in B-flat Major, Op.142/3

SCHUBERT , Impromptu n°3 ,Rosamunde, Horowitz

strange bed for pilgrims, diary note

i woke in a strange bed and in a strange person, i woke at night like a pilgrim.

by now i know that depression is more important than other persons, it lets only pets slip through. it is more important than anybody or anything else, it takes all space, and it pulls all down to a ‚just' this or that.

not that i am depressed, but haven given my presence and companionship and me. i know. i have been too near and too involved.

maybe i needed to suffer just this more. why i do not know. maybe i had a task to take on as burden.
i don't know.

i left before i got sucked into the hole, before i could get finally absorbed by consequences of indecision. i accepted to be powerless and found life. mine.

because i am not powerless and because i am not ‚just' me.

only words are just words - but they can kill and comfort and clear and help to find release.

without any intention and without a true meaning in a shared context they are very empty, without hope, without faith: letters.

when the sound of a voice has faded- the person has gone.

when no response reaches and when silence is pre-dominant as answer: the person will go , one of them will.because non-answering is like a lie, and post-postponement means indifference.

so or not so.

i woke in a strange bed and in a strange person.

at my age it is a huge freedom to be a stranger.

loss is a key turned, a lock opened.
i can start again.




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Allegri, Miserere mei, Deus

empty yourself and fill with sky

i turned me inside out.
i emptied me of you,
i emptied me of me

i let all go
dreams, tears, hope,
love and desire

now i do not know
who you are
nor who i am

i refilled like the
the sea washing
sand from the shore

this here is my breath,
my blood and my tide,
here i fill with sky

Anonymous , Alleluia, Behold the Bridegroom

Corries , Dark Lochnagar

only falling and flowers, diary note

what i wrote the other day i meant, i saw, i know.

the flower opens, its vulnerable and erotic inside connects with the sky, invites the bees, and then it falls, petal for petal.
it never never thinks of not opening because it will die, of staying closed because it may be hurt, it gives its beauty and its scent without the slightest hesitation.

only when you fall,
you will reach the sea.
i meant it.

a flower does not think, it has no ideas, it
is not separate nor would it ever feel alone, it opens as an expression of the universe and nothing is in between.

not like men in T.S. Eliot:

‚Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow.'

no, and also T.S.Eliot though the flower just is and would not know:

‚And the end and the beginning were always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now.'

But the flower will not speak in words , it is process which does not reflect on itself:

unfortunately i speak , again in Eliot's words, my human mind in need of
letting go itself:

‚For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.'

Loreena McKennitt , Dante's Prayer(original-HD + lyrics)

BlackHill & Silent Island , A wild river to take you home

moon river, good night

the river runs wild, runs free

i stood on a bridge, so broken,

i stood between you and me,

knew no way to go

the river runs wild, runs free,

i let me fall and now i see,

the bridge has broken,

i swim to earth and  shore

the river runs wild, runs free,

it carries you and me,

whispering willows call

our shadows, sing memories

The river runs wild, runs free,

the bridge, it has broken,

small stones turn and murmur,

last bonds, they float away

The river runs wild, runs free,

it  took visions and wishes,

oh the current was strong,

but now i walk, now i stand

The river runs wild, runs free

i will not forget you, dreams

follow secret paths, tender

elephants have cleared them

before our time, grace has come,

and now i will sleep, and now

i am past and sky and bird,

now i run wild, run free

now i sing, cannot be heard

but the white moon to listen,

now i am river, now i am free,

and falling i reached the sea

  

the river runs wild, runs free,

and falling you will hear

the murmur, the whispering,

falling like a flower you will sing

falling you will rise, be morning,

be sun, be warmth, be sky,

only falling you will

reach the sea .

Bugge Wesseltoft, Henrik Schwarz , Dan Berglund-,Take A Quick Break

Street Scenes in Killarney, Ireland, May 1929

Leonard Cohen , time as monk, German subtitles

Nina Simone , Wild Is The Wind (Original)

Viktor E. Frankl, über Liebe, Triebe und Sinn

White Sea Blue , Arseniy Lapin

Nowhereland , Arseniy Lapin

thinking on Frankl

Viktor Frankl is dead but i carry him inside.

still i allow myself some reservation of doubt, i always do.

one encounters also even in oneself the part of say inertness of a human mind,
a kind of dumbness which makes one prefer to stay in a system of doom and gloom where one knows 'home' with its limitations, punishments and meaningless despair blunted by comfort.
this looks like a place which persons often prefer for a very very long time to freedom.
the freedom of choice is pending over their head like a sword, they see another obligation with unknown consequences which should make them leave the patterns of self and of postponement:
to many near to impossible, inconceivable.

so i doubt that these who are called mentally normal or well adapted or healthy will look so much for meaning:
they imagine they are it. and then they make do with what they imagine. they just are fairly closed systems-
and none of us is called to be a hammer for them. life does this work.

and many persons prefer to be ill, sad, unhappy to a change in life. they find meaning in their drowning.


yes. it is a matter of attitude. all.

Meaning of Life, Viktor Frankl

Shakespear's Sister , Hello

Sinead O'Connor, Make Me a Channel of Your Peace - Late Late Show 26/03/93

Make me a channel of your peace
Where there is hatred let me bring your love
Where there is injury, your pardon Lord
And where there is doubt true faith in You

Make ma a channel of your peace
Where there is despair in life let me bring hope
Where there is darkness only light
And where there's sadness ever joy

Oh, Master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul

Make me a channel of your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
It is in giving to all man that we receive
And in dying that we are born to eternal life


(attr. to St. Francis of Assisi)

Kaija Saariaho, Six Japanese Gardens (1994)

The Alan Parsons Project , Don't Answer Me

Mozart, Clarinet Concerto, II, Adagio

Fauré ,Requiem, Op. 48 , In Paradisum

Ron Korb ,Flute Traveller , alto

Vivaldi , Concerto for Two Mandolins in G, RV532 , Mov. 2-3/3

Haydn , Symphony No. 94 in G Major, Surprise, II, Andante

diary note

just got a bit of flue. feel a tightening in my chest. a subdued fear arising out of the memory and knowledge of this body, me.
so i talk to me, to my fear which has not defined and framed my way of life for long.
i listen to me saying that final disintegration will be a release though as long a i can feel energy and joy and curiosity i wish to live forever. forever now.
and calmness returns. it is as if the body understands that life is also an effort, a tension, a work and often a burden. and to leave is nothing bad. more a quality jump, a release,
the falling apart of a system, all regrouping, life and death connected with each breath of each being.
i can hear music.
and am it and in it.
so. good night.



Von meinem iPhone gesendet

Giovanni Paisiello , String Quartet No. 8 in G major, R 8.08

Maus und Elefant

Nick Drake , One of These Things First

Nick Drake , Clothes of sand

Distant shore , Arseniy Lapin

John Dowland , Tell me,true love

Tell me true Love where shall I seeke thy being,
In thoughts or words, in vowes or promise making,
In reasons, lookes, or passions never seeing,
In men on earth, or womens minds partaking.
Thou canst not dye, and therefore living tell me
where is thy seate, why doth this age expell thee?

When thoughts are still unseene and words disguised;
vowes are not sacred held, nor promise debt:
By passion reasons glory is surprised,
in neyther sexe is true love firmly set.
Thoughts fainde, words false, vowes and promise broken
Made true Love flye from earth, this is the token.

Mount then my thoughts, here is for thee no dwelling,
since truth and falshood live like twins together:
Beleeve not sense, eyes, eares, touch, taste, or smelling,
both Art and Nature’s forc’d: put trust in neyther.
One onely shee doth true Love captive binde
In fairest brest, but in a fairer minde.

O fairest minde, enrich’d with Loves residing,
retaine the best, in hearts let some seed fall,
In stead of weeds Loves fruits may have abiding;
at Harvest you shall reape encrease of all.
O happy Love, more happy man that findes thee,
Most happy Saint, that keepes, restores, unbindes thee.

Terradellas , Donec ponam ,Orlinski

Bed Head , Simon's Cat | SHORTS #65

John Dowland , Now, Oh, Now I Needs Must Part ,Andreas Scholl

Purcell , O Solitude, My Sweetest Choice (Andreas Scholl)

John Mclaughlin ft. John Surman , Earth Bound Hearts

John Dowland , Go Crystal Tears

Leonard Cohen , Steer Your Way (Audio)

Steer your way past the ruins of the altar and the mall
Steer your way through the fables of creation and the fall
Steer your way past the palaces that rise above the rot
Year by year, month by month, day by day
Thought by thought

Steer your heart past the truth that you believed in yesterday
Such as fundamental goodness and the wisdom of the way
Steer your heart, precious heart, past the women whom you bought
Year by year, month by month, day by day
Thought by thought

Steer your way through the pain that is far more real than you
That smashed the cosmic model, that blinded every view
And please don't make me go there, though there be a God or not
Year by year, month by month, day by day
Thought by thought

They whisper still, the ancient stones
The blunted mountains weep
As he died to make men holy
Let us die to make things cheap
And say the mea culpa, which you probably forgot
Year by year, month by month, day by day
Thought by thought

Steer your way, o my heart, though I have no right to ask
To the one who was never, never equal to the task
Who knows he's been convicted, who knows he will be shot
Year by year, month by month, day by day
Thought by thought

They whisper still, the injured stones
The blunted mountains weep
As he died to make men holy
Let us die to make things cheap
And say your mea culpa, which you gradually forgot
Year by year, month by month, day by day
Thought by thought

FLAIRCK , BASILY, VALSE DE NIGLO, DE MAAGD, 2012

G.F. Handel , Addio, mio caro bene , Orliński , Kawałek

sleeping into a storm

a bleak and dreary day, rain falls on ice,

ice which only broke a few days ago with sun. early this morning i heard the first toad croaking into this year.

all followed prophecy, my soul sleeps in the pond.

The Corries , Granny's In The Cellar

:-)

The Corries , Eriskay Love Lilt

The Corries , Come By The Hills

The Corries , Come O'er The Stream Charlie

listened to the Corries a lot in my youth, just remembered....

The Corrs , Heart like a Wheel

Anti-vaxx, USA, The Guardian

Anti-vaxx, facebook, USA

To read this has been a disgusting breakfast experience.

All in all it is a matter of education, but you cannot change this type of

persons who feel justified by half-knowledge to cause harm to children.

Though it was said to forgive those who do not know what they are doing-

they must know that they act wrongly, i do not forgive.

In my actual country of residence we find the very same people, 

teachers, people out of the semi-esoteric scene, people who like to be against something 

maybe because they do not know for what else to stand, often finding themselves highly intelligent,

their opinions based on misinformation, political mistrust, half-digested facts.

I found arguments most difficult. They start now to behave like religious fundamentalists.

In Bavaria for example families had measles-parties, a child with measles used to infect

other children.

Measles can kill and they can cripple for life.

They are no more a harmless infection than tuberculosis  or HIV are.

I spent 5 years in Uganda during civil wars, and i saw countless children die from measles.

To be that much fighting against vaccination endangering all the others' children

is something which can only happen in richer countries, in countries where the majority of

children are vaccinated and the corresponding diseases are not so obviously killing

and maiming.

All i ask is to consider this and to see what happens in poor countries.

I wish sometimes that i had taken videos, but then, I am not a vulture.

11 year old girl gives birth to rapist's child,The Guardian

Girl, 11,gives birth to rapist's child, Argentina



"Tucumán’s archbishop, Carlos Sánchez, recorded a message on Wednesday revealing Lucía’s real name and calling on Christians to “defend all human life”.

source: The Guardian

Indifference is the cruellest torturer.
The Pope may be an educated person, 
i hope he will hear this and meditate on which action to take for the future-
no stupidity nor dogma justifies such cruelty.
blindness is no excuse nor is stupidity.
there is simply no excuse at all.

justification always means to act perverting truth into something else,
power games.

The Corrs , Black Is the Colour

two swans

two swans do not

fly more easily than one,

their weight is doubled,

and in the sky 

they cannot carry

each other

but they can care

on the ground, 

they can talk,

they see the other

and feel the grace

as i feel when i see

them swimming free

and together, connected  in all, 

water, willow,light and shadow

their long strong necks 

now bent, now erect,

they glide in the current,

balanced in the mystery of life

hands are not just hands

some hands hold

coins, some pens,

some grenades, 

some babies, some

hands hold hands,

no question asked,

hands kill, 

hands caress

some hands cannot

hold nor let go,

but the soul can wake

into another dream,

take rest on a hand,

feeding on warmth.

we can change the story, 

now, tomorrow, from here.

just move, ride the

bicycle , so easy,

learn by doing.

fall, rise, ride.

hands can touch

without hands.

when thunder rolls,

when earth rumbles

some have no space

in their mind, some

none in their heart.

intellectuals, artists,

doctors,psychologists,

some give,create,burn, 

grow cold, and the

lava slowly thickens,

some come empty, 

suck my blood,

fill sadness into me,

leave, them sad too.

all want to be free,

but few dare

to bear consequences

to stand up, to change,

to act, and truth

indeed is hard to meet:

don't confront but ask

or give up.

on being weird at night

i woke in the heart of night. hungry and with an appetite. eating slowly apple sauce with cream of condensed milk it came to me that to die now i would still have this delicious taste in my mouth, nothing bad, and i enjoyed it after all. there was a slight regret that i'd also like to feel the fresh memory of kisses and have the scent, the softness and breath and nearness of a sleeping love with me. but then i would let her sleep, early enough for her to have a bad surprise in the morning and for me better too, i'd like to go without her agitation, quietly.
so crazy,so real.
and now i sleep again, with a kind of malicious joy, i had woken out of dream with the pressuring image that i'll be too late for work. no.