Sleepy and normal mood, I drove to the office. Usual traffic, the usual tree, usually a dog limping gait, at least until the opening of the cages of that great dog track, which is the GRA. Habit is a comforting companion and we cling to it, especially at the beginning of the day, when there is to win the thought of all the commitments that lie ahead. The light was a
bell'arancione vivid, since the six previous afternoon. In these cases, however, I have been full knowledge of kilometers of autonomy that correspond to the small, infinitesimal space between the bar indicator of petrol from absolute zero. In fact, after a few hundred meters, that's a big green sign indicating that about two thousand yards from where I will find a distributor who practice the affordable price of € 1.322 per liter.
Despite this, I almost did the same to remain standing. No, I had to push the car to get to the gas station. Simply have fallen into a kind of trance , from which it emerged only when the service area appeared tiny in my rear view mirror. I paid a fortune to find in a few minutes another distributor, supplying astronomy figure of € 1.402 per liter. Damn.
The fact that I was hearing music, as I almost always while driving. I remember the final geometric progression of the North, with the tenor sax, the alto saxophone, trumpet and then their ensemble to overlap on two themes as magical as those who only knows how to bring out the old Asti. Even now that I think about it, I get the picture that I always condenses in mind when I listen to that piece: a large meadow on the high, thin air, pungent colors too much for too close to the sky and virgin scents. Finished the song after a few seconds of breath post-coital, I woke up and laughed, of true happiness.
Everything happens to me often when I listen to music. I think it is a mystery, a magic, a gift. The music brings me shards of truth. What me and I can not understand the world through the efforts of my poor dull intelligence, I make it clear to the music. It uses words such as our feelings untold, fill in the emotions directly into machine language.
Thus, responding to an email after all innocent, an honest title "A tough mission ..." , whereby a very nice colleague of mine asked me to give him the titles of the twelve songs in my opinion more beautiful, revealed herself a really hard effort. I took, of course, work at home. I could not run the risk of overlooking something important, for lack of memory sometimes blurred. Reduce the communicative power of music in twelve examples is in itself an extreme exercise, vaulting a bold, reckless stunt and I really do not I could try, at least without the safety net of my CDs in alphabetical order. It was a process of unprecedented violence, the limits of stupidity, having to choose between Fossati and Jimi Hendrix, John Lennon and between Giovanna Marini. But that was the trial and what I did, albeit not completely. I could not drop below 14 tracks. It would be was too painful to select more.
Even more I weighed well not be able to separate all the components that inevitably come into play when making assessments such as these. How much of my choices has depended on what I thought would like my colleague? But how much depended on my mood that particular day? I consider it a new disc or an unknown artist as a gift to be discarded. How much did you weigh in my choices that always gives me pleasure to give gifts? Impossible to say. The fact is that every time you look at a painting, repainting it again. I learned long ago that what is natural and therefore inevitable. So, I accept it, but it makes me angry.
Responding to my colleague, I took my list with the date, place and time of my choices, although aware that this will not be sufficient to save my soul.
Hothouse Flowers - Be Good
Dave Matthews Band - Stay (Wasting Time)
Living Colour - Love rears ugly head
ITS Led Zeppelin - In My Time of Dying
Queen + David Bowie - Under pressure
Peter Gabriel - Sledgehammer
Bob Dylan - Jokerman
CSI - Traveling
Vasco Rossi - wonderful ....
Lucio Dalla - Paolo Conte Train
- North
Gianmaria Testa - To accompany
Giorgio Gaber - If I were God
Roger Whittaker - Speak with the liquid
bell'arancione vivid, since the six previous afternoon. In these cases, however, I have been full knowledge of kilometers of autonomy that correspond to the small, infinitesimal space between the bar indicator of petrol from absolute zero. In fact, after a few hundred meters, that's a big green sign indicating that about two thousand yards from where I will find a distributor who practice the affordable price of € 1.322 per liter.
Despite this, I almost did the same to remain standing. No, I had to push the car to get to the gas station. Simply have fallen into a kind of trance , from which it emerged only when the service area appeared tiny in my rear view mirror. I paid a fortune to find in a few minutes another distributor, supplying astronomy figure of € 1.402 per liter. Damn.
The fact that I was hearing music, as I almost always while driving. I remember the final geometric progression of the North, with the tenor sax, the alto saxophone, trumpet and then their ensemble to overlap on two themes as magical as those who only knows how to bring out the old Asti. Even now that I think about it, I get the picture that I always condenses in mind when I listen to that piece: a large meadow on the high, thin air, pungent colors too much for too close to the sky and virgin scents. Finished the song after a few seconds of breath post-coital, I woke up and laughed, of true happiness.
Everything happens to me often when I listen to music. I think it is a mystery, a magic, a gift. The music brings me shards of truth. What me and I can not understand the world through the efforts of my poor dull intelligence, I make it clear to the music. It uses words such as our feelings untold, fill in the emotions directly into machine language.
Thus, responding to an email after all innocent, an honest title "A tough mission ..." , whereby a very nice colleague of mine asked me to give him the titles of the twelve songs in my opinion more beautiful, revealed herself a really hard effort. I took, of course, work at home. I could not run the risk of overlooking something important, for lack of memory sometimes blurred. Reduce the communicative power of music in twelve examples is in itself an extreme exercise, vaulting a bold, reckless stunt and I really do not I could try, at least without the safety net of my CDs in alphabetical order. It was a process of unprecedented violence, the limits of stupidity, having to choose between Fossati and Jimi Hendrix, John Lennon and between Giovanna Marini. But that was the trial and what I did, albeit not completely. I could not drop below 14 tracks. It would be was too painful to select more.
Even more I weighed well not be able to separate all the components that inevitably come into play when making assessments such as these. How much of my choices has depended on what I thought would like my colleague? But how much depended on my mood that particular day? I consider it a new disc or an unknown artist as a gift to be discarded. How much did you weigh in my choices that always gives me pleasure to give gifts? Impossible to say. The fact is that every time you look at a painting, repainting it again. I learned long ago that what is natural and therefore inevitable. So, I accept it, but it makes me angry.
Responding to my colleague, I took my list with the date, place and time of my choices, although aware that this will not be sufficient to save my soul.
Hothouse Flowers - Be Good
Dave Matthews Band - Stay (Wasting Time)
Living Colour - Love rears ugly head
ITS Led Zeppelin - In My Time of Dying
Queen + David Bowie - Under pressure
Peter Gabriel - Sledgehammer
Bob Dylan - Jokerman
CSI - Traveling
Vasco Rossi - wonderful ....
Lucio Dalla - Paolo Conte Train
- North
Gianmaria Testa - To accompany
Giorgio Gaber - If I were God
Roger Whittaker - Speak with the liquid
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