Archive for November, 2011

Adele.

Posted in Personal with tags , , , , , , , , on November 27, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

I would like to dedicate a modest post of mine to the magnificent being of Adele.

 “I don’t make music for eyes, I make music for ears.” And that is why we love her.

I remember the  time I heard her first single “Chasing Pavements”, and the way i felt about it. It is a lovely song, carrying the uniqueness of simplicity. It is rare now days.

But The Adele that touched me, is The Adele of the live performance at Brit Awards. That Adele, that had strength to write her feelings down,to face them, to sing them,to scream them and to smile them away. That Adele that touched world’s heart and soul, that silenced world’s chaos, stopped the time and urged universal tears to come out. It was The Adele that needed just one piano to enslave all of the human feelings and to direct them with the movements of her hands.The Adele that made me cry and smile and shiver at the same moment. The epicness of that moment was the reborn of  music.

 

That down to earth Adele, funny woman, that in a second would have you trapped in her magic.

 

Then, just recently, I came watching two live performances of her at Royal Albert Hall; particularly “Turning Tables” and “Set fire to the rain”, like probably most of you have done so. I have to confess that that made me decide to write this post  in my blog. It feels good to share.

Of course, I had listened those songs before and truly love them.Each of them has something on me.But,watching those performances, was something more.Actually, they were all that mattered. Jaw dropping pieces of art, moved parts of me that I was afraid to even recognize. Adele made me realize once again, that we are nothing but a bunch of feelings eagerly waiting to explode.And my feelings did so, by the second Adele started singing.She did nothing more.She just sang. Sang my feelings out.Sang OUR feelings out.She made us happy,sad,emptied us, filled us up with hopes and concerns.
She woken up sadness for unrequited loves.Weaknesses, desires, special ones drifting through our lives.Silent screams would fade out with smiles.Hopeless anger of guiltiness would wash through us. Violins were dancing with their pleasure of accompanying Adele. Hands would wander around trying unconsciously to reach something unknown.
But what I loved the most was the feeling of love towards strangers,part of the audience, when they would hug each other, love each other, or even sing to them selves.

 

 

 

I would like just to sincerely Thank Adele for everything she does.

 

“When people hear good music, it makes them homesick; for something they never had, and never will have.”

 

 

Advertisements

Small desires.

Posted in Personal with tags , , on November 22, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

Because all we want is just one tea,one friend,one invented world…to share our stares with.

I’m discontented with homes that are rented so I have invented my own. 
Darling this place is a lover’s oasis where life’s weary chase is unknown. 
Far from the cry of the city, where flowers pretty caress the streams, 
Cozy to hide in, to live side-by-side in. Don’t let it abide in my dreams. 

Picture me upon your knee, just tea for two and two for tea, 
Just me for you and you for me, alone! 
Nobody near us, to see us or hear us, 
No friends and relations on weekend vacations, 
We won’t have it known, that we have a telephone, dear. 
Day will break and you’ll awake and start to bake 
A sugar cake for to take for all the boys to see. 
We will raise a family, a boy for you and a girl for me, 
Can’t you see how happy we would be? 

Picture you upon my knee, just tea for two and two for tea, 
Just me for you and you for me, alone! 
Nobody near us, to see us or hear us, 
No friends or relations on weekend vacations, 
We won’t have it known, that we own a telephone, dear. 
Day will break and you’ll awake and start to bake 
A sugar cake for to take for all the boys to see. 
We will raise a family, a boy for you and a girl for me, 
Can’t you see how happy we will be.

A thousand slowly dying sunsets.

Posted in Personal with tags , , , on November 15, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

Birdy- The deepest point of your conscience, with no turning back.The past,present,and future of music.

God knows what is hiding in those weak and drunken hearts
I guess you kissed the girls and made them cry
Those Hardfaced Queens of misadventure
God knows what is hiding in those weak and sunken eyes
A Fiery throng of muted angels
Giving love and getting nothing back

People help the people
And if your homesick, give me your hand and I’ll hold it
People help the people
And nothing will drag you down
Oh and if I had a brain, Oh and if I had a brain
I’d be cold as a stone and rich as the fool
That turned, all those good hearts away

God knows what is hiding, in this world of little consequence
Behind the tears, inside the lies
A thousand slowly dying sunsets
God knows what is hiding in those weak and drunken hearts
I guess the loneliness came knocking
No on needs to be alone, oh save me

People help the people
And if your homesick, give me your hand and I’ll hold it
People help the people
Nothing will drag you down
Oh and if I had a brain, Oh and if I had a brain
I’d be cold as a stone and rich as the fool
That turned, all those good hearts away

People help the people
And if your homesick, give me your hand and I’ll hold it
People help the people
Nothing will drag you down
Oh and if I had a brain, Oh and if I had a brain
I’d be cold as a stone and rich as the fool
That turned, all those good hearts away.

Mario Vargas Llosa- the creator of “trenchant images of the individual’s resistance, revolt, and defeat”

Posted in Personal with tags , , on November 9, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

I have to confess, guiltily, that I read about Mario Vargas Llosa, very recently.Articles on newspapers, his just won Nobel Prize,were enough for me to decide upon researching more about him. And I wasn’t disappointed . Until I’ll have one of his books in my hands, I’ll be satisfied with his quotes.Here are some of them.

 “Why would anyone who is deeply satisfied with reality, with real life as it is lived, dedicate himself to something as insubstantial and fanciful as the creation of fictional realities? Naturally, those who rebel against lie as it is, using their ability to invent different lives and different people, may do so for any number of reasons, honorable or dishonorable, generous or selfish, complex or banal. The nature of this basic questioning of reality, which to my mind lies at the heart of every literary calling, doesn’t matter at all. What matters is that the rejection be strong enough to fuel the enthusiasm for a task as quixotic as tilting at windmills – the slight-of-hand replacement of the concrete, objective world of life as it is lived with the subtle and ephemeral world of fiction.”

“In my case, literature is a kind of revenge. It’s something that gives me what real life can’t give me – all the adventures, all the suffering. All the experiences I can only live in the imagination, literature completes.”

“From the cave to the skyscraper, from the club to weapons of mass destruction, from the tautological life of the tribe to the era of globalization, the fictions of literature have multiplied human experiences, preventing us from succumbing to lethargy, self-absorption, resignation. Nothing has sown so much disquiet, so disturbed our imagination and our desires as the life of lies we add, thanks to literature, to the one we have, so we can be protagonists in the great adventures, the great passions real life will never give us. The lies of literature become truths through us, the readers transformed, infected with longings and, through the fault of fiction, permanently questioning a mediocre reality. Sorcery, when literature offers us the hope of having what we do not have, being what we are not, acceding to that impossible existence where like pagan gods we feel mortal and eternal at the same time, that introduces into our spirits non-conformity and rebellion, which are behind all the heroic deeds that have contributed to the reduction of violence in human relationships. Reducing violence, not ending it. Because ours will always be, fortunately, an unfinished story. That is why we have to continue dreaming, reading, and writing, the most effective way we have found to alleviate our mortal condition, to defeat the corrosion of time, and to transform the impossible into possibility.”

“We would be worse than we are without the good books we have read, more conformist, not as restless, more submissive, and the critical spirit, the engine of progress, would not even exist. Like writing, reading is a protest against the insufficiencies of life. When we look in fiction for what is missing in life, we are saying, with no need to say it or even to know it, that life as it is does not satisfy our thirst for the absolute – the foundation of the human condition – and should be better. We invent fictions in order to live somehow the many lives we would like to lead when we barely have one at our disposal.” 

Alone with everyday.

Posted in Personal with tags on November 8, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

Throughout the history of art, we’ve faced artists escaping excellently the reality and giving birth to illusions, delusions , wishes and desires, in their own perceptual unique way and forms.
Was it The Fear of having to do with reality that made them so talented?:) It could have taken less courage to drown on their own seas, then to simply face every day life, every day cruelty and absurdity.
Charles Bukowski never dealt with that fear.

The flesh covers the bone,
and they put a mind in there,
and sometimes a soul.
And the women break vases against the walls
and the men drink too much
and nobody finds The one,
but keep looking, crawling in and out of beds.
Flesh covers the bone,
and the flesh searches for more than flesh.

There’s no chance at all
We are all trapped by a singular fate.

Nobody ever finds The One.

The city dumps fill; the junkyards will fill;
The madhouses will fill; the graveyards fill.

Nothing else fills.

Charles Bukowski  

What’s inside of me will never die….

Posted in Personal with tags , , on November 7, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

 Walking through dark streets,
the cold is looking for some way to stroke my skin.
My body is shaking, my knees are weak,
intense emotions overflowing me…

I try to find myself, I try to move on,
dont know where I am, please carry me home…
I try to find myself,
I try to move on, dont know where I am,
please carry me home…

But I tell you whats inside of me will never die,will never die…

Island Blues.

Posted in Personal with tags , , on November 7, 2011 by voicewithinsilence

Starting my winter with this song.May we survive for the next summer 😉

 Hello my love
It’s getting cold on this island
I’m sad alone
I’m so sad on my own
The truth is
We were much too young
Now I’m looking for you
Or anyone like you

We said goodbye
With the smile on our faces
Now you’re alone
You’re so sad on your own
The truth is
We run out of time
Now you’re looking for me
Or anyone like me