Ajoelhou-se ao piano, acariciou as teclas, os pedais, a madeira, e abraçou-o, parecendo abraçar um homem gordo e grande para o qual os seus braços franzinos não chegavam. Homem amado, tantos anos doce, agora amargo de silêncio.
Olinda Pina GilThere's a story here.
A catastrophic silence where our thoughts and feelings collide ...
Where your sweetness overrides my senses and our bodies move to the same tune.
The same song.
The same melody.
The same stroke.
The same rhythm.
It's our story, Trinity, and it's just begging to be told.
Tag: life love music poetry men silence sex relationships story emotions guitar life-story piano
I wanted to love this piano. I wanted to invite music back into my life.
Thad CarhartThe effect is captivating as all of the tones mix, like a watercolor with hues swirled together, and lovely carrying notes long after the fingers are lifted from the keys.
Thad CarhartYou hear lots of notes, don’t you? Some have a major sound. Some have a minor sound. But there’s not one blue note among all these black and white keys. The real blues, the soul of the sound, comes from the spaces in-between.
David Mutti ClarkTag: music soul blues jazz piano piano-lessons
There was something about her playing... a knowledge of darkness in the most extreme form.
Marisha PesslTag: music darkness horror piano deadly brilliant
you can run out of garlic, you can't really run out of music
Jace WaylandTag: music run clary jace jace-wayland the-mortal-instruments piano wayland garlic fray
When I was thirteen I spent a lot of time pretending to like dance music because everyone at my school seemed to love it. If only I'd known it was OK to have different tastes to others and that one day my mind would be blown open by an older man who would introduce me to The Smiths, The Cure, Buzzcocks, Talking Heads and almost every other band I adore to this day. I also wish I'd been reassured that one day, yes, a boy would actually fancy me in spite and potentially, deliberately, FOR my zero boob/skinny legs combo. But mainly I wish I'd listened to my mother when she said learning to play the piano might come in handy in the future and would actually be something I would thank her for forcing me to do. Every Wednesday we would drive to Mrs Batten's house listening to The ArchersI, with me in the passenger seat trying desperately to think up excuses for why I hadn't practiced that week. Though it seemed very unlikely at the time, I am thankful for those piano lessons every time I manage to impress a boy by hammering out some Chopin when drunk (swot up, kids!).
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