the orchard
wild, wondrous, weird ... and wicked

Voices of Women


The Orchard
RSS orchard

(direct from the orchard)


Cymbals and seasons
2003

First roots (05/03)

2004

Sowing seeds (08/04)

Turning trees (09/04)

Underground? (10/04)

2005

Bursting out from below (03/05)

Cruel deception? (04/05)

Flower power (05/05)

Knuckle down (06/05)

Of Apple trees and synching feelings (07/05)

Eclipsed and ablaze (08/05)

Of light beyond clouds (09/05)

Harvest and rot (10/05)

Defrosting the fountains (11/05)

Difficult digging (12/05)

2006

The Janus month (01/06)

Manuals and mud (02/06)

The people, the pitfalls... (03/06)

...the peaks, and the river (04/06)

Unclouded confessionals (05/06)

Riding the roller-coaster (06/06)

Precipitate plunge (07/06)


Strong Stuff?
The Orchard is space to "think different", if at all. Life brings occasions to cease the endless flow of thought; it can be hard, but wisdom needs quietened minds to grow.
For months, during a dream of love, there were locks on the gate. Now it's open in all weathers. Space, time and mind occupy dimensions that are rarely mentioned in the music log unless musicians do themselves.
You'll find more music here, poetry, prose and pictures for people's special moments, some of my "gurus", sometimes a tribute to a friend no longer with us.
Welcome also to a workshop; other entries concern "tools of the trade" for music-lovers, and there are notes on widely used Mac software and the occasional rant at Apple and the music industry.
This is where ideas can gestate and experiments happen.
Predict Nothing.



dimanche 15 août 2004
 

Up in the house I was out of bed by around seven this morning.
Late yesterday evening, the Wildcat arrived.
So much catching up to do, we were up well into the early hours.
The logistics did work out, somehow, in my small part of the house, three of us!
A little more sleep tonight than last would be good if I'm to be bright, bushy-tailed and, especially, sensible tomorrow...

dancing flame

Stepping out for some air, Ellie, I strolled down past the paddocks and the copse and came across the fuchsia patch.
This variety goes, the flower girl told me, by the nice name of "dancing flame", which caught a mood of the moment.


9:50:02 PM    your views? []


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