East Eagle, August aspect, entering dry season, High Wallowas . . .
On the road in the Northwest of America. [ click photo for next . . . ]
THE LITTLE CLAVIER please preview 150 of 631 pages
w/ my black & white photography [opens in new window]
ON THE SOUND OF WHITE-WATER RUSHING—
Just as the smell of freshly cut hay or just turned garden soil seems to
contain all other smells, so also the high sparkling sound of rushing
water seems to contain all other sounds.
The sound of the wooden flute, the violin and oboe is there. And the
trumpet and the human voice. Or the deep sound of skin drums, and
strings of tiny metal bells. All are held in this mysterious rushing sound
of flowing mountain water.
Perhaps that is why we sleep so peacefully in the sonic embrace of an
alpine stream. No other sound has such deep roots in our own natural
history’s story. Indeed, how could this be otherwise? For where there is
clear flowing water, there there is security of the very most basic kind.
The sound is whispering, as it were, a soothing reminder to someplace
deep in our common unconscious, that, like love itself, where there is
water, life flourishes.
| download THE LITTLE CLAVIER (poem) mp3 [ 1 Mb ]
Featured gallery, 100 MINIATURES, a set of 100 black & white photographs. ONE image. ONE idea. ONE new way of looking . . .100 MINIATURES—online gallery
Each miniature is a kind of meditation on one idea & one image;
Each lasts 30 seconds; They play in random order;
The music is my BOREA Mix,
for hand-played ePecussion Orchestra.
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