Posts

Ink Ocean

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Royalty-free music for professional licensingNo idea how the Jamendo team got this moderated and published on New Year's Eve. That's dedication beyond the call of the tweet, drum, horn & keyboodle! I didn't expect to see it for a few days at least. I certainly hope the whole Jamendo crew has gone out celebrating! ::smiling:: Thanks, guys! :))

Ink Ocean: Brenda Clews, poetry, reading, mix;
music (mixed by me), Alphacore, 'side_project,' from "Side Project": http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/33504, and Extra's, 'The Quickest Vessel to a Distant Future,' from "Water Every Full Moon": http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/45140 (with permissions)


This is my second, and preferred, reading of my poem, Ink Ocean.

The poem began to arise in two drawings, one of which I have included in the album cover, and the writing from the other drawing (which I took a photograph of before covering it in ink and paint).

If you'd like to read the poem, it …

A River of Stones

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Small Stone month:

"Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a small stone every day during the month of January.

What is a small stone?

A small stone is a polished moment of paying proper attention."

Fiona Robyn and Kaspalita.

I'm in. Are you?


Starlings on a Winter Tree

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Starlings, puffed in the cold, land here and over there,
arrayed black musical notes on the rhythms of wind in bare trees.

Then they dart, bullets from a Beethoven symphony,
speeding without collision through the wind-waving branches.


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European Starling


Keith Jarrett

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- written while listening to the Köln ConcertLa Scala and The Vienna Concert on a train, over and over, without beginning or end -


How would I describe Keith Jarrett's music as he plays his piano in these concerts?

A beauty of muted passion, rather than dramatic and sublime in a Kantian sense - what's bursting in Jarret held in minimalist reign.

Harmony that is off balance. Discordant harmony.

What we hear is not so much the struggle of a man to come into being, but a man making love to the muse who sings through his instrument. We witness effort, yes, in a delerium that encompasses us.

Trills and moments when the music misses a rail, backs up and continues on. Within a constancy of notes that don't go anywhere, become anything, that are unrelenting throughout.

Where the echo of the note is dampened. He knows the terrain, but he's never visited this musical spot before. He learns as he plays. As he plays, he intuits the next notes. Impromptu within a form.

Anyway, w…