<sigh> Gorgeous... and what an amazing quote! I love Oliver Sacks.View attachment 117010
Music, uniquely among the arts, is both completely abstract and profoundly emotional. It has no power to represent anything particular or external, but it has a unique power to express inner states or feelings. Music can pierce the heart directly; it needs no mediation.”
― Oliver Sacks, Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain
(Vale Oliver Sacks)
Fab... and it has a sort of *sinister* vibe.
Love it!Survivor - still walk past here every week day.
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Duane
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iPhone 6
Duane is a self taught mandolin player: he built this one. I get to play with him and his brothers from time to time.
I'd have to disagree with that, depends on what kind of music he's listening to I guess
Nice image though.
Grace!! Loved that album.Survivor - still walk past here every week day.
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Wow... an artist and craftsman.Duane
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iPhone 6
Duane is a self taught mandolin player: he built this one. I get to play with him and his brothers from time to time.
<sigh> Gorgeous... and what an amazing quote! I love Oliver Sacks.
I haven't, but I will add it to my audio book list!Yes, what a gift he was. And remains, through his work. Have you read Musicophilia?
Also that cover! She knocked a few socks off at the time, didn’t she?Grace!! Loved that album.
Abso--lutely!!Also that cover! She knocked a few socks off at the time, didn’t she?
War of the Worlds. One of our favourites.Grace!! Loved that album.
Fab angle! Sort of the opposite of the Deepop Hover Mode.Upbeat
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What a great little scene!
I back up all my mobile photos to the Photos program on my Mac, so I did a search there for "music" and got a street violinist, a nun with a bass drum (stock photo, not mine), piano keys, a PA amp, a radio, a tin box with the word "Singer" on it (!), a gate that might look a bit like a clef if you squint just right, and this:
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An abstract impression of bebop? Your guess is as good as mine.
Tried it with my back ups to google photos - lots of very strange results!I back up all my mobile photos to the Photos program on my Mac, so I did a search there for "music" and got a street violinist, a nun with a bass drum (stock photo, not mine), piano keys, a PA amp, a radio, a tin box with the word "Singer" on it (!), a gate that might look a bit like a clef if you squint just right, and this:
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An abstract impression of bebop? Your guess is as good as mine.
Well, that’s certainly left-field (pun intended). Ingenious.A cappella cow sonata in B flat minor.
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Every year in late fall the cows come home from the community pasture to spend the winter in the farmyard and barn. Perhaps, not coincidentally, this occurs at the start of deer hunting season. These are the young ones born this past spring. After spending all summer in the relative freedom of the vast open range area this new captivity in a barn and farmyard comes as somewhat of a shock. In addition they have been separated by age from the rest of their herd, who are housed in a similar way just diagonally across the road at the other barn.
For the first few days the cows make a lot of noise protesting their newfound confinement and calling back and forth with their compatriots. This mournful song goes on night and day making it hard for us to sleep, but as the cold weather sets in they begin to appreciate the shelter of the barn, not to mention food being delivered by some unknown catering service. No tipping required.
Their song strikes me in different ways, at different times. Ranging from “they doth protest too much, methinks”. After all, there’s not much food to be found in the frozen snow covered fields, let alone shelter. On the other hand, cows being herd animals don’t like being separated from the rest of their herd and I can’t help feeling sad for those who have been separated from their mothers for the first time in their lives, as their young calls are answered by deeper bellows from across the road.
Gradually their songs die down after a few days and I wonder if they can no longer remember what they were mooing about or if they have begun to adjust to their new situation. Hey, there’s no adults here telling us what to do.
Naturally the cows became shy in their singing when I stood nearby. Stage fright, no doubt.