Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Caves of Heaven . . .

Paris 2010

Where can I hide
                      my small self
from the wrath                              
of the universe . . .
                  its paroxysms
less like a hiccup
than a catastrophic eruption                                               
of hot and angry fissures                         
                                              blasting molten lava at my fragile ego . . .

                                       From day to day I wander
by the trembling waves of the sea . . . .                   
until a pointed tide                         
                         curves over me,
                    and grasping me in its fist,
sweeps me like unwanted crumbs from a table
to be ground into the dust of the creations . . .                 
nothing I was
                                            and nothing I am still. . .

and yet
a conundrum. . .
                                       a puzzle in which I
am left with gaping holes of                        
lacking comprehension
and a looming presentiment of annihilation                            

                                                    My small footprints leave 
a shimmering trail
in the time swept sands of existence,                                  
            a beacon for this monster of vengeance
                         to follow. . . 
my flesh raw and tender,                                     
                      a sacrifice to my neon culpability 
as I struggle along the shoals                                                      
waiting for my death .. ..

where can I hide
                                       my small self
from the wrath                                        
            of my destruction?

Paris 2010

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Some of My Latest Favorites on Jamendo

Paris Street Musician 2010

I like this artist's music (Higgins) . . . it makes me smile and relax at the same time . . . Mostly ambient, piano, instrumental .. .. gorgeous!

My Review for his latest album: "Images"

What a beautiful album! I have been enjoying this musician, during the last few days, and when I discovered this latest album, I put it on to play into the atmosphere of my classroom and found that it increased the calm and positive feelings in the room (believe me that is NO light compliment when my students are taking their State Tests). . . so it played all morning . ..

These tracks are all just beautiful . .. unique from one another and yet they flow together very nicely . . . There were times I felt like flying and there were times I felt grounded . . . but I was never dropped like a ton of bricks . .. I was always carried so peacefully from one song to the next . . . the compositions were wonderfully accomplished through excellent choices of instrumentation and the ever delightful subtle nuances . . .

Gorgeous . .. how do we improve Higgins ??. . . just make some more of the same . . . and we will be delighted . . .

Persson . ..  has a new album out . . . I love his music . .  always gives a boost to my emotions:
Review for: "Let's Go to the Movies"

As always . . . Persson's music puts a big smile on my face and a flutter in my heart . . . its irresistible rocking blues . . And I feel his love for music so strongly in my bones that he has become one of my top ten favorites on Jamendo . . or anywhere since I only listen to Jamendo artists . . . LOL . . .

Perfection in guitar play and excellent compositions shines out from this album as it does from his others. The music puts energetic life in my soul . . nothing better than that! Just let the music fly . . and carry you away!

P.S. I'll never forget when I first discovered Persson and his beautiful "Blues for a Soldier"' and how I cried:
So . . . thank you Mr. Persson . . for sharing your music.

 Review for : "Transglobal & Magic Sounds" by László Hortobágyi (Red Puma)

 Ancestral Beating Heart: Herein, I was taken to far off places .. . .. shamanistic spaces, aboriginal . . . ancient passages through time . . . through temples and holy places . . . hearing the plaint of the priests and shamans . . . listening as we gather around the sparking fire, of stories long told . . . mysteries and shadows brought as offerings to the light.

This album resonated with my old soul . . the spaces in me which are still connected to my ancient ancestors . . . and I heard the primal cry and I followed these shadowy mysteries and offered my song to the gods .. . and there . . . I saw a rising light . . .

We share something here . . something so primitive, so deep . . . it is hard to find words . . .

Friday, February 18, 2011



who are we to judge
the quality of your creation . . 
you tried your very best,
tearing into the experiences 
of your inner soul. . .
digging deep into your heart . .
finding the pieces to build something
to share
with the rest of us . . .
to give as a gift . . . . a balm for our wounds
. . . to heal us,
and to say . ..  "I understand . . .
I have seen the eternal fires . . .
I have climbed those broken mountains,
I have touched the dragon's tooth,
I have tasted the tears of angels,
I have heard the song of the silent . . .

I have been there
and back . . ."

the nascence of your dreams,
like the visions of the gods,
is tender and easily bruised . . .
who are we to judge
your fragile child . . .
as if it were the bleeding refuse of
your imagination . . .
disregarded by our inability
to hear the pleading in your voice . ..
"hear me -
oh hear my cry .  .
the crimson patterns of
my spilled blood
stain the very foundations
of my creations . .. "

We see those weeping patterns
and read them .  . as they drip from your offspring
. . . an ocean of tears . . wept . . .  and storm tossed . ..
mixed with war and love . ..  
death and life . . .
and the filthy mud of our humanity . . .
cemented together and formed
an angel arising from that rough material,
flying above the maelstrom
to lift us higher . .  into the circle of your arms . . 
where our hearts
melt into yours . . 
and we become one


Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Two Albums Regarding the Journey . . ..

Review: "Memoirs of a World Traveller" by satya

traveled with you . . . in an exotic haze of incense, sensations and unbelievably good music . . . music so full of . . . dreaminess . . . an album so strikingly precious and beautiful . .. like a tapestry of vibrant colors describing these beautiful places . . .the music flowed like a river . .. like a sleepy dusty road . .. like a warm sultry breeze . . . it took me places . .

We traveled . . .

From the plains of Africa, the flutes, powerful drums and exquisite throat singing and other vocals . . . massively moved me in "A NIght in Serengeti" . . .. to the peaceful dreamy song of "The Summer Rain."

"The Old Cabaret in Sofia" influenced by a thrilling exotic vocal . . . propels the traveler onward over an ancient road and into the impeccable sounds of "Lost Civilization" . . . bits of world song . . . ancient as humanity coming together traveling down this long road . . .

But music speaks to our soul . . . the deep primitive heart of us . . and oh my soul . . but that flute that sang like an angel in "Silk Route" with the singer . . . I was there . . . and then back to warm and vibrant Africa's percussion and vocals in "Nangwatu Village" and onward through beautiful and exotic "India" . . .

and finally "Paradise on Earth" where we are mesmerized by the huge drums and music which has traveled far to greet our ears and our hearts . .

What moves me so with this album is the primitive voice and fluidity of the ancient instrumental songs and general peacefulness . ..

Review: "Voyages" by TomA Sound Factory

Not a bad little album . . . it seems to have been overlooked .. .. I do not understand why this one didn't receive any reviews as of yet . . . its actually quite good . . .

As I listened to the first track I could see the pictures of an epic trip . . . a journey is a profound interlude in a person's life . . . it not necessarily a trip from one place to another, but moments in our lives . . .where life changes . . . becomes a new experience . . . a transition between the spaces of our existence. . . personal metamorphosis . . .. a transmigration . . .

This album's first track showed a wonderful talent, of this artist, which is to create an incredible flow between styles of music . . . I experienced this music as being full of light and excitement . . . the anticipation of a journey . . . and what will happen in the end. That is a positive expectation and a lovely way to look at the changes in a life.

The music was everything from progressive to jazzy . . piano, neo-classical . .. gorgeous compositions and tremendously well done sound . .. it really sounds great with headphones . ..

Overall this is the kind of music you can put on and listen to all day . . . it starts you dreaming and it keeps you hoping and gives you energy and peace . .


Monday, February 14, 2011

Missing You . . .

How I miss you . . .
when you have flown away
    from me . . .
the emptiness of my vision . . .
creates a hole in my world
where you once were ..

Your wings brush against my cheeks .. ..
as you fly and
I long to reach out  . .  try to seize
that one last feather . .  as it flashes in
the waning sunlight

just one memory to hold dear,
to watch it twirl in the air
aiming for my heart . . .
like a dart released
by a goddess . .  just one last look
of you . ..

one last dream

of holding you close,
                   fast, to my chest . .
to breathe your breath,
and touch your throbbing heart. . .
my hands trace the delicate
shape of your being . . .

you are an essence of me
I feel you in my heartbeat,
like a bird, fluttering against the crystal light.

I long to see you in the sunshine
and fly with you in the night .. ..

as you waft through my dreams,
like an angel,
I hold to every vision
of you . . . everything you do . ..
you say . ..
your look . .  when you look at me
I see my soul in your eyes . .
reflected there
and I long to stay . . .
always a reflection in you
safe inside of you

but these are the sentiments
of memory and dreams,
and even though I know you love me .  .
I long to taste the flavor of your mouth
and feel the warmth
of your strength . . .

when will you fly back to me . .
my love?
my eyes search the clouds
and the face of the moon
in the night . . .
tears blur my eyes
and I see shadows of your lovely face
wherever I look . . .
and I know that you rest
in my heart forever . . .


Tunes for "Vanlintines" by Van Syla

Poem for: "Xiuxiueig Llunar" by Söd'Araygua 

- A gift from the Angels -

brightly sparkles the gem . . reflecting the fires of the sun . ..
a lullaby . .. to lull you into comfort and contentment . . .
a tale to enlighten you
and beauty to engage you . . .

wings to lift you into a perfect dream . . .
arms to encompass you . . .
a feeling of safety
a sprinkle of magic to charm you . ..

a music to become for you
the magic you need . . .
and dance with you . ..
down your hidden pathway . . .

And there you will find
all the treasure you desire
and a subtle passion
where joy resides . .

Beautiful is the song . . .
that lifts my spirits
such as this . . .
perfection from the angels . . .
a gift . . .

- M^^W -

Friday, February 11, 2011

The Solitude of Love

What does the solitary rose
of the desert know
more than the dozen of her kind that
grow in tender care
softly kissed by the sweet dews of night ?

what does the fragile bird sing
when wings are spread
before the day has dawned. . .?
what does the small fish dream
when tossed below the violent waves
lashed by the hungry storm?

And does the desolate star 
hidden behind heavy clouds
shine less brightly than his brothers
who rage in splendid glory
across a bottomless sky?

Is there passion in the moment
is there glory in the night, while
a dream, a wisp of something,
rises up like misty visions
from the lonely dreaming soul
turning slowly in restless sleep?

for desolate grows the night
of that solitary soul
clinging to the slender vine
where deep are the shadows that linger
draping the wall dividing the worlds
of despair and joy . . .

and sweet desire, the soul that holds to
 compassion and self-control while
awaiting the glory of
a momentary flight
that rises on wings to soar
into the sunlit blue. . .
and give away
what it retains . .. 
of peace and love and hope . .. .

Review for: "Winter in Tenochtitlan" by ETHNICO
 This was very nicely composed music . . . exceptionally creative and filling my listening spaces with the harmonious melodies of ancient tales and wistful dreams . ..  the music lifted me and gave me wings to fly . . . resting above the storm in quietude and  peace . .. .

The percussions were vividly drawn and the instruments chosen to paint the songs were used with perfection.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Music for Your Valentine:

Detail of unnamed fountain in Portland (popularly called the "car wash fountain")

Review for : "Mon Amour (My Love)"

I was spending some time, this morning in a quest to find a beautiful song, an outstanding album, I think I have found it . . . the exquisite, moving music of Ivan Tiukov . . . the piano flowed like liquid sound, straight from the hearts of angels . . . My ears wept from joy . . . so soul touching, gentle and graceful, serene and peaceful . . . this is love!

Review for :
"Pour vous (For you)"

Lovely, moving, enticing, I just want to listen and enjoy this beautiful piano . . . so relaxing, so peaceful .. .. .. take it out with you on a sunny day . .. let the earth hear the beauty of the sound and be happy . . . and fly . . ..

Review for: "Wonder Wing" by Ignacio Núñez 

All I could say at first was . . . "Oh its so beautiful!"

Not only piano, but so much more . . . a few added sounds, or an entire symphony would accompany this gorgeously played piano . . . A light touch, but not too light . . . gorgeous and bright . . . like sunshine after many dark and cloudy days . . .

The hands of the musician played on the keys as if they were runners . . . familiar with the landscape and so engaged with the mountains and the valleys . . . sometimes skipping along and other times . .. walking slowly, reflectively and contemplative. . .

The other instruments, the compositions, and the musician's thoughtful sound values worked together to create a wonderful mood in my heart . . . and I was able to visualize generously beautiful sceneries . . as if painted there by the artist of this heavenly music.

Detail of La Fontaine Saint Michel in Paris

Monday, February 7, 2011

The Hidden Heart Part II

silent numbers . . . 
mathematics tell a tale
of visitors to my roadside stand . . .
come rest a while;
visit the living and the dead,
listen to the music and see the sights . .
and be aware that you are not alone
with your fears and your hurts,
your joys and your visions . . 
here is an alien attraction . ..  a sign along the way . . .
float on the sea of tears . . . so clear and warm . . .
a disturbance of blood long scrubbed away . . .
a place where I birth my soul's meaning
a flesh so new and tender,
so raw and fragile . . .
and yet must fear
the slash of the knife . . .
the indifference of humans in the shadows . .. 
eyes glittering, pasted on unmarked faces . . .
I give myself as a gift . . . 
to those who wish   .....  to taste of me
the laughter that bubbles up,
the salt of my tears . . .
my joys . .. my fears . . .
the vision of my dreams . .. 
the spaces of my existence . ..  is here
for all to see . . .
and you I count
to make you real . . . 
though a nameless number
you choose to remain . ..

 "Surrreal" by Juan Carlos Buades Tardio
Music that suits my mood . . . 

Friday, February 4, 2011

The Hidden Heart . .. is Exposed! Part I

Detail in parking lot of restaurant, Holgate Street and 39th, Portland

I won't take my blog down but I may slow down a little in adding new posts . . .

And I want to thank you all, for your input and thoughts, here and on Facebook . . .

I remember that I started this blog, for me, as a place to put my old poems, new writings, and ideas, and then I quickly forgot about it and let it sink like a stone in the murky seas of the Internet.  A year or so later, a friend on Jamendo found it and sent me a nice comment regarding its appearance and content.

I had never intended for it to be public and I had never realized how much of myself, orangeupurple AND Wolfsong, was on the Internet . . . I never planned on using my blog to entertain people or express myself publicly.

I shared it with a few friends . ..  and discovered a small audience . . . a very small audience. And I wrote for them and myself .  . Just these few.  I was happy and I found a place to express my emotions . . . such as my feelings, when I found out that my friend and workmate, Mary, had stage IV cancer......

Eventually my circle of Internet friends grew . . . and these were the people who seemed to love my writings. Most of my face-to-face friends and relatives never cared to look . ..  and there, I wonder why!

But, oh well!  I found new friends who were interested in my writings and then after some encouragement to try photography, from one of these friends, I shared my pictures too . .. 

I should have been happy . . . and content . .  but I gradually became audience hungry and greedy. I discovered the "stats" tab and found that quiet and invisible people were stopping by to see my page and I began to count those numbers. 

And there . .  a problem developed . .. 

To Be Continued:

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Should I Take Down My Blog . . . Ramblings

I am at a point in my blog writing career where I wonder if anyone is out there . . . does anyone like my stuff at all . . . my ramblings . . .  my poetry . . . or my photography . . .???

Is there anyone looking at my stuff? I know a couple of my friends do . . . But I feel so alone here . . .. Does anyone look at my pictures and like them . .  no one ever says . . not once has anyone said I took at least one good picture . . .  Are they all that bad? Isn't there at least one picture that appeals to someone? Why doesn't anyone tell me how bad they are . . .??  Is it because they are all so outrageously bad that people just assume that I know? 

Are my poems that bad too . . . why don't people say something . . .. like, "Excuse me Ma'am . . . but are you kidding? Your art is impossibly bad and people are stopping by to laugh at it . . .You are the laughingstock of the Internet .  . didn't you know?"  At least that is the impression I am beginning to understand . . .

Please - I feel so low . . . I took pictures to entertain people and wrote poetry and music reviews and I offer Jamendo widgets for music and I have been doing this for several months now . . . and I feel invisible! So very invisible . . .

My pictures and my writings aren't just my expressions . . . they are extensions of myself . . If I take down my blog, if I take it off of the Internet, it will be like killing a part of myself . . it will be a form of suicide . . . but I can't stand it anymore . . . I can't stand sending my poems and pictures into a black hole . . . they just disappear without a remark from anyone . . . time and time again . . .

Now . . . I listen to music on Jamendo and write comments for the musicians . . . maybe they think those writings are stupid too . . . maybe I am really oblivious to how wretched my writings really are ..... or any of my other so called art .  . I like the stuff . . . but that doesn't mean anything at all . . I am probably just showing the world what an idiot I am . . . so I apologize . .. and I am embarrassed at exposing myself so poorly . ..

Well . . . if you or anyone else is reading this . . you will see that I am in despair and very depressed . . . But this depression has been making its way up . . . and has finally bubbled its way to the surface of my awareness . . .

I don't know what else to say .  .  . 




Crystal Springs Canyon at Reed College . . . Portland

Sacred places
in the dream-time       
we seek
a place by the sea
gray waves                 
scabbed with foam
sooth balm-like
ebbing and flowing         
with their song
the waters move        
in harmony
and the freshening           
lift the snow-white foam     
as salty offerings              
to the lips               
of the quiet watcher
small birds dance
with the tides. . .
lovers in the quest         
for life        
and the fires in the sands
are cooled                 
by the incoming 

Oregon Coast at Lincoln City

Review for: "Lake's soul" by Stefano Mocini

Water Wonder
There is something so deeply spiritual about water . . . that most humans are instantly drawn to any body of water . . ..water has incredible beauty from the sparkle on its surface to the life in its cool mysterious depths; water has a heart lifting music as it ripples and swirls or falls; and its great environmental reaches on the face of this hospitable planet makes this world unique amongst all the others . .

We all have our special water places . . . to go and bond with and be recharged and refreshed and this lake is one of those places . .. in a musical sense . .. reflecting perfectly with music how this beautiful lake reaches into the spirit and heart of the observer . . . and lifts them buoyantly through and into peacefulness . . .

Review for: "Levitation" by PATROUX

Floating in our Dreams
Water and Space . . . environments that contain places we wish to go and things we wish to see and denizens we wish to commune with . . . we are fascinated by these places and see great beauty in the soul of water and the vacuum of space . .. we find ways to travel there and we explore . . . and with this music we are taken away . . to the places where we can float . . and relax in our dreams . . . 


Review for: "DEBUT" by Rovshan Azizov ( Mr.AzizoFF )

And at those first jazzy/bluesy notes . . . that easy bluesy-woozy sound . . . I melted and just - fell so in love with your voice, Mr. AzizoFF . . . .

. .. . and you, you perked up my mood and gave me a smile . . . . this is music to lift the heart of the weary and sad . .. You have the tempo and the music and the voice . . . its all there and it equals really excellent . . . foot tapping jazzy/rock/blues . . . warm .. . mellow . . . gorgeous!!!! "Yos (NO)" in particular, moved me and touched my heart . . . warm and sweet . . .

All . . . All so very good . . . .

my only regret is that you left this little album here, so long ago, and then no more . .. come back Mr. AzizoFF !!!! Please, I beg you . . . come back with more!