I discovered Tom Ashbrook this week (Spotify’s algorithms can do good work) and wanted to share this with you all.
bodies in motion
light moving across my ears
seducing my soul
poetry, prose, and photography
I discovered Tom Ashbrook this week (Spotify’s algorithms can do good work) and wanted to share this with you all.
bodies in motion
light moving across my ears
seducing my soul
I know that I mostly post poetry, and more specifically haiku, here. However, music also holds a dear spot in my soul. So, discovering this video today thrilled me in many ways (I grew up on a regular diet of Simon & Garfunkle), and I wanted to share it with all of you.
It’s a version of Simon & Garfunkle’s “America” done by the Swedish duo First Aid Kit. Check out who’s in the audience.
Probably best know for “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised“, Scott-Heron hugely influenced Rap and Hip-Hop. His work captured the array of emotions describing the urban black culture of the moment.
piano’s motion
notes dancing upon the wind
rain gently falling
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Satie is playing
Songs that make me think of spring
The joy of flowers
A bit of a haiku at the end of a busy day. I hope your day was filled with joy and satisfaction.
This audio dance
As I sit this Saturday
My ears rejoicing
Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.
Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.
Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.
Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.
Such randomness within in my mind.
Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.
Keys pressed in the night
Joyful sounds enchanting me
As a cold wind moves
I hear Siouxsie Sioux
Burning ash and destruction
Cities in the dust
The music of the 80s speaks to me. So many memories, pain and joy, anguish and exaltation.