The teacher is always the teacher and the piano teacher is still more!
And here it is coming, just this morning, we had not seen in years, accompanied by a flutist, a beautiful woman, as the teacher, moreover, that those little hands smote the keyboard by lifting a cloud of scales and arpeggios that let me always mouth open. She enjoyed her vain and coquette, my admiration for those young learner furious fingers, as well as for the breasts that shook every prosperous "fortissimo". Ah, the music, how wonderful to hear and read so closely in the body, because he is the worker harmony, what does the hard work and stubborn, but it carries the sense of hearing to the brain that once the artifacts, since the transient attack (someone will have noticed how much importance do transient attack) captures image noise and fly away along with the music to bring it all to the body of the hearer.
From the body and the body comes back. Perhaps this is Anais Nin
argued that the best lovers were musicians, so long to let them express them by giving them "ears" sensitive and silent bodies. (Oh, she said, not I!)
The musicians are transformed when they play, they can be vulgar and ignorant people, but if you know how to play let them talk to their means and they will tell you things that verbal language can never say.
And so my teacher, so Viareggio, fiery and rompicazzi handy if it had a piano or a man, but was so virtuous when he played one or the other of the two. Or so someone told me as regards the second, if we want to call the instrument.
now teaches at the "Cherubim" and continues to do concerts. It has some subtle wrinkles but is only an extension of the score of his heart, which is reflected in the beautiful face, which has many keys to write and those bass and the violin is not enough anymore. Her eyes are bluer than I've ever seen, quick as lightning, almost like his irreverent language.
I could not write about this meeting, has filled my heart and part of the case, in that case that I know very well that does not exist.
said, the teacher enters, the flutist who wanted to meet me. Do not get your hopes up that it is for my compositional skills, not just talk about it, but a funny thing. It 'happened because the teacher who does not want to use the internet, I had contacted by the flutist who has an account on facebook, from which I see myself get a message (yes I know, I have always spoken ill of facebook, do not bother the Balls!) said I get this message that the bearer (ugly word, like a latrine, cambiamolo!) say the messenger apologized for the intrusion into my wall and I would read the words below " but they were only the message that she ******** went by (the teacher of course). " The message began with a " Asshole! " and after intermission a well-articulated, I'm not here to repeat as a matter of decorum and decency, ended with the same word starting with mo 'move in fee. Ripresomi by surprise I think about it a bit 'and then say, keeping the content of the composition that I had just received. In short it happened that the flute player, as its duty to liege messenger, it said that exchange of return, as if they were song and anthem, so at the end of this responsory has introduced herself, and has formed a trio, then, for the disappearance of the teacher, duo is back.
Now, I say, is it possible that I want to know the shit that I write and not for my music??
Anais, da'retta, fuck off.
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