Gallery

Journal

Store

My Stock

Note me

I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled King composing Hallelujah

Music: one word, thousand images. One note, million feelings. Music, to me, was ever be a mistery. I wonder how -I say- How music can be so.. divine? How can I reach it? How can I express my feeling trough it, when I cannot move on the staff?
Music is the supreme art. Music is never been so far away from me as it is in this period. I listen, and listen, and sing and play..
..but I'm feeling as a giant who tries to pick a flower up with his giant hands..
Music is the instrument of those who can brush heaven and snatch it away its secret.

She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Somethig happens, and we can only accept it. Sometimes is simply an empty sadness, sometimes is a sterile melancholy. Sometimes is someone we miss.
I miss lots of people in this period, some of them are unattainables, others are here on earth, not so distant, nor so close. But are here.
And when I cannot explain to myself why things are changed, when I cannot find the cause.. is like to live into lyrism without poetry. To be overwhelmed by a deal of emotions, memories, wishes and simply pretend not to feel anything. Just do nothing.
And here and now this fact drows from my lips the Halleluja, and I fall far from the divine grace of Music, of art, of life, of Heaven. No more secrets.
Completely devoid of any reaction force -but the show must go on, and it goes forward with the inertia.

My God, where I've been for all this time?
How can beg your forgiveness?