Tag Archives: Pothrorva

Ieblonia

Box! Box! Box!

Ieblonia.

In G major.

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Box! Box! Box!

Ticking, ticking tick-tock, tick-tock.

Go! Go! Go!

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Jean Adam “Grand Adam” (1823-1869) was a Master French bowmaker. In a pool of master bow makers had left their imprints.

Atelier d’Archeterie /blog.

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Portal musicpainting compositions. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

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Finding a pathway

through the trail of a maze

to begin a new trace.

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Reflections from the Mediterranean.

Vobellis

Open skies, open grounds, open seas, open eyes and open hearts.

Vobellis.

In B major.

  Open skies, open grounds, open seas, open eyes and open hearts.

David Tecchler (1666-1748) was a German luthier whose work was mainly in Germanic or Italian style of construction. Wiki.

Chordly Series 4. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

Today’s composition was a toss-between composition.

What you may consider your ghost, could be this musical sculptural space in G-flat minor.

The band marched in a trance of silence behind, the bulging rain.

A nameless bird call awakes me with thoughts of you.

And the brightest planet tonight is Venus, congratulation!

With a smile, I was looking for a secret in the morning thread.

Gilded words of wisdom in a hall of dark cold cobwebs.

Behind locked thick iron doors, words still slipped through.

Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

The arts, AI and friendly fire.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

These series intertwine, in text and music.

Refection from the Mediterranean. 

Qeyroina

It was a toss-up between compositions.

Qeyroina.

In G-flat minor.

Today’s composition was a toss between composition #5 of 3-10-22 and #4 of 6-10-22.

Simon Straub (1662-1730) violin luthier of Alemannic School. Wikipedia.

Chordly Series 4. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

What you may consider your ghost, could be this musical sculptural space in G-flat minor.

The band marched in a trance of silence behind, the bulging rain.

A nameless bird call awakes me with thoughts of you.

And the brightest planet tonight is Venus, congratulation!

With a smile, I was looking for a secret in the morning thread.

Gilded words of wisdom in a hall of dark cold cobwebs.

Although the ashes were blown away, the voice remained.

Behind locked thick iron doors, words still slipped through.

Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

The arts, AI and friendly fire.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

These series intertwine, in text and music.

Refection from the Mediterranean. 

Uvonlei

What you may consider your ghost, could be this musical sculptural space in G-flat minor.

Uvonlei.

In G-sharp minor.

What you may consider your ghost, could be this musical sculptural space in G-flat minor.

Tommaso Balestrieri (1750-1780) was a luthier and the last master of the Cremonese violent-making tradition.

Chordly Series 4. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

The band marched in a trance of silence behind, to the bulging rain.

A nameless bird call awakes me with thoughts of you.

And the brightest planet tonight is Venus, congratulation!

With a smile, I was looking for a secret in the morning thread.

Gilded words of wisdom in a hall of dark cold cobwebs.

Although the ashes were blown away, the voice remained.

Behind locked thick iron doors, words still slipped through.

Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

The arts, AI and friendly fire.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

These series intertwine, in text and music.

Refection’s from the Mediterranean. 

Pothrorva

The band marched in a trance of silence behind to bulging rain.

Pothrorva.

In F-sharp minor.

The band marched in a trance of silence behind to bulging rain.

Giovanni Battista Ceruti (1756-1817) was an Italian luthier best known for his violins, cellos and double basses.

Chordly Series 4. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

A nameless bird call awakes me with thoughts of you.

And the brightest planet tonight is Venus, congratulation!

With a smile, I was looking for a secret in the morning thread.

Gilded words of wisdom in a hall of dark cold cobwebs.

Although the ashes were blown away, the voice remained.

Behind locked thick iron doors, words still slipped through.

Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

The kiss of meaning that words awaken, of memories on turning nights.  

The arts, AI and friendly fire.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

These series intertwine, in text and music.

Refection’s from the Mediterranean.