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February Sun by Manu Katché from the album: Neighbourhood

thirtynoire:

Manu Katché  February Sun

Silk Endroll by Ryuichi Sakamoto from the album: Silk

javiercarrete:

Ryuichi Sakamoto   

Silk Endroll

Ludovico Einaudi  Indaco

I am in love with places forgotten, isolated, uninhabited. Caught in a tangle of weeds and grass, each splinter and crack buckled under bracken, brown folds of leaves and dirt, a mark of wisdom on the furrowed brow of ruin. Things abandoned and broken feel as beautiful as the memories of yesterday, of last week and last month, a mottled throng of years that ripple across a debilitated surface. In the summer dusk it is a shrine to sorrow, a simple charm, a delicious loneliness in which to burrow. There’s the unwillingness to press a word into the silence and halt the burdening tingle of nostalgia from ballooning across my skin. In solitude I can thrust life into history. I can set my imagination playing with lacerating details like shadows that shiver in changing light. I like the idea that I can press my palm flat against a surface and touch the same place another hand has rested upon. I like the way that two lives can be split around the barrier of Time but interact in the simplicity of a gesture.
natk 

I am in love with places forgotten, isolated, uninhabited. Caught in a tangle of weeds and grass, each splinter and crack buckled under bracken, brown folds of leaves and dirt, a mark of wisdom on the furrowed brow of ruin. Things abandoned and broken feel as beautiful as the memories of yesterday, of last week and last month, a mottled throng of years that ripple across a debilitated surface. In the summer dusk it is a shrine to sorrow, a simple charm, a delicious loneliness in which to burrow. There’s the unwillingness to press a word into the silence and halt the burdening tingle of nostalgia from ballooning across my skin. In solitude I can thrust life into history. I can set my imagination playing with lacerating details like shadows that shiver in changing light. I like the idea that I can press my palm flat against a surface and touch the same place another hand has rested upon. I like the way that two lives can be split around the barrier of Time but interact in the simplicity of a gesture.

natk 

Lugano Lake by Marcin Wasilewski Trio from the album: Faithful

andreasung:

Marcin Wasilewski Trio
- Faithful

Ludovico Einaudi  Walk

greeneyes55:

Montmartre Paris 1950s 
Photo: Patrice Molinard 

greeneyes55:

Montmartre Paris 1950s

Photo: Patrice Molinard 

I loved you head over handles
like my first bicycle accident —
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.
Sierra DeMulder

Annie Lennox  Why