I’m adding a list of music I’ve listened to during 2012. No priority.
Album: White ladder Song: Please forgive me
Album: the Joni letters Song: River
Album: Half the perfect world Song: Once in a while
Album:Dart to the heart Song: There’s a bone in my ear
Album: Natural light Song: Too much stuff
Album: Poses Song: Cigarettes and chocolate milk
7:Aziza Mustafa Zadeh-
Album: Dance of fire
8: Return to forever-
Album: Hymn of the seventh galaxy Song: Captain señor mouse
Album: Sjung Song: Some die young
10: Ane Brun-
Album: Spending time with Morgan Song: Humming one of your songs
Some of the songs and artists are new acquaintances and still some are old friends. I have followed them from my early twenties and I wish music will continue to give me pleasure, memories and emotions many years ahead. Music and literature are my main inspiration.
They give inspiration and escapism. Energy, happiness and they offer a path to my emotional sources. Music and literature are two of my best friends.
I leave the village early. Its still dark. A bird hovers above me as to say goodmorning mr. My steps are slow. I walk alone just accompanied with the bird and the flowers. The flowers are beautiful. Not so bright colors this time of day. My feet are OK. Blisters? Yes, but not many. My feet have become accustomed to the habit of walking all day long for weeks now. I enter the open landscape. The view is wide and far. A village in the distance is two hours away. I walk. I watch my feet moving over the soil – step by step. On my way to Santiago. I feel my body. My hamstring is tense and hurts a little on every step. The sun rises bringing light and warmth. Later it will be a hot day. On entering the village I watch for the nearest caf. One cafe con leche and a bocadillo con keso. When finished I walk the narrow streets uphill. Passing an open window from where I hear music. Mozart. Someone is cleaning to the music of maestro Mozart. I keep on walking. Passing the village chapel. The service has just begun. People are inside. The door is open… I keep on walking. Over a hill onto the flatland. I hear the sound of a choire coming from the chapel. The sound of gregorian voices gliding and flowing from the chapel over the hill up onto the flatland. Along the path is a wooden bench. I sit down to rest. Peace. Thank you