The great writer would have been impressed. He was the subject of all discussion, around which everything circled.
LACRIMOSA from the REQUIEM MASS in D MINOR (K. 626) by WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART. Text by Kevin Densley
I have a vivid memory from that time of watching this wonderful film near the end of its run in Mid-City’s main cinema, which seated close to a thousand people, with only a couple of others in attendance.
Tchaikovsky: Serenade for Strings in C, Op. 48 – III. Elégie: Larghetto elegiaco. Poem by Stephen Andrew
Staring at nothing/But sleep’s petulant absence./Most nights were like this/Toward the end.
It’s like seeing a tapestry in the dark – there’s beauty, but there’s also a great deal of uncertainty. And I didn’t know which thread I was supposed to embody.
The music conjures images of a new person. A person who can smile, laugh, interact.
The love of any form of art is always a subjective thing. What is cool is an art form that can take you to a new level of appreciation of another art form.
I was like another brother to Jessica. She fancied my band mates more than me, so that was bit of a drag. We did share a love for one particular song, though.
The Sun God is a mystery to me. I have never heard it and I have not been able to find any recording of it anywhere.
Nimity James Theodor W. Adorno, the German philosopher, said we don’t understand music. Rather, music understands us.
Vin Maskell Geelong, 1971, Melbourne 1974 My eldest brother didn’t own many records. If my memory serves me well, the albums he listened to were by The Beatles, a rebel country songwriter, some Dylan and Clapton, a little art rock, and some English pop by a red-headed protégé of Elton John.