I traveled back into the alps for an exquisite concert last week - to Gstaad and the Lauenen chapel where texture and daylight stir and splinter, and candles warm stone walls at nightfall.
Surrounded by people, I was alone; enfolded in music, I sat in silence.
I climbed the ancient stairs to watch while his fingers made art on white keys. His mind was in a place I could not access as the masters within him resisted being conjured up on such a lovely day - his intensity to force their hand imposed a saturation within that quiet place such as I have rarely felt.
What is art if not the sound of a consuming soul?
5 comments:
for a moment, you drew us into that place with you.
great post. you made it so real with words and image
Lovely images you've created in my mind. I just stopped by to say "hello". It has been forever since I have blogged. I didn't realize how much I missed my blogging friends until now. God Bless! -Carla
Wonder moody photo, would love to hear the sounds you heard there, thanks
Quelle belle photo !
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