This old girl still has plenty left. Nice condition and ready for a test drive. It's a small upright -- taller than a spinet but shorter than a full upright.
Mais um aparte: entre a Saudade e a Solidão
Neste momento,
já não sei se sinto a tua falta
ou
se deixei de saber estar só.
Tenderness. Protection. Afection.
*Photo by Isidro DiasO abraço do Gonçalo...
O Gonçalo tem uns olhos inocentes, de um castanho límpido e um rosto de anjo triste.
É morenito, de cabelo crespo e negro, encaracolado.
Gosta de jogar futebol e de pintar.
Tem vergonha de cantar e dançar.
Faz os trabalhos todos com muita dedicação. Tem medo de falhar e esforça-se por me agradar.
Gosta de ser útil. É prestável. Amável. Educado. Carinhoso. Enternecedor. Frágil. Menino. Pequenino. Quase bebé.
O Gonçalo é o menino dos meus olhos, embora eticamente não devesse ter um. Mas é um menino que de tão doce dá vontade de embalar, pegar ao colo, levá-lo para casa e mimá-lo, porque ele merece todo o amor do Mundo – como todas as crianças. Dá vontade de proteger. Precisa ser protegido.
O Gonçalo todas as segundas e quartas-feiras, às 12h, espera que os colegas saiam e fica sozinho na sala de aula comigo. Depois das duas dezenas e meia de “goodbye, teacher!” e de outras tantas dezenas de beijinhos na bochecha da teacher, o Gonçalo chega-se a mim, sempre tímido. Diz-me “goodbye teacher” sem gritar, como os colegas; aproxima-se para me dar também um beijinho na bochecha e, de repente, sempre de repente embora sempre esperado, abraça-me, num abraço forte, terno, que dura longos minutos e a mim me parece durar uma vida, abraça-me como se ali encontrasse todo o carinho e protecção e sem perceber que ele, tão pequenino, naquele abraço protege ele a sua “teacher”, a faz sorrir, a faz esquecer novamente o mundo e lhe dá o maior tesouro do seu dia inteiro... o abraço do Gonçalo.
Death within the past
''É um erro imaginar que a morte está à nossa frente: grande parte dela já pertence ao passado, toda a nossa vida pretérita é já do domínio da morte!''
Cartas a Lucílio, 1, Séneca.
"o passado para Séneca é a única morte que podemos conceber para além da morte dos outros. E porquê? porque ambas são reveladas pela ausência de algo. O passado não volta. (...) recuperamos a memória do que foi ou do que julgamos ter sido?"
(Henrik)
Cartas a Lucílio, 1, Séneca.
"o passado para Séneca é a única morte que podemos conceber para além da morte dos outros. E porquê? porque ambas são reveladas pela ausência de algo. O passado não volta. (...) recuperamos a memória do que foi ou do que julgamos ter sido?"
(Henrik)
*Collage of photos from unknown authors
'Tis not that Dying hurts us so—
'Tis Living—hurts us more—
But Dying—is a different way—
A Kind behind the Door—
The Southern Custom—of the Bird—
That ere the Frosts are due—
Accepts a better Latitude—
We—are the Birds—that stay.
The Shrivers round Farmers' doors—
For whose reluctant Crumb—
We stipulate—till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home.
Emily Dickinson
Insomnia
*Photo by Augusto ToméInsomniac
There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.
Maya Angelou
Envy
"Envy is an emotion that "occurs when a person lacks another’s superior quality, achievement, or possession and either desires it or wishes that the other lacked it." At the core of envy seems to be an upward social comparison that threatens a person's self-esteem: another person has something that the envier considers to be important to have. If the other person is perceived to be similar to the envier, the aroused envy will be particularly intense, because it signals to the envier that it just as well could have been him or her who had the desired object."
in Wikipedia
“You can't be envious and happy at the same time”
(Frank Tyger)
*Photo by Picasso
I envy Seas, whereon He rides—
I envy Spokes of Wheels
Of Chariots, that Him convey—
I envy Crooked Hills
That gaze upon His journey—
How easy All can see
What is forbidden utterly
As Heaven—unto me!
I envy Nests of Sparrows—
That dot His distant Eaves—
The wealthy Fly, upon His Pane—
The happy—happy Leaves—
That just abroad His Window
Have Summer's leave to play—
The Ear Rings of Pizarro
Could not obtain for me—
I envy Light—that wakes Him—
And Bells—that boldly ring
To tell Him it is Noon, abroad—
Myself—be Noon to Him—
Yet interdict—my Blossom—
And abrogate—my Bee—
Lest Noon in Everlasting Night—
Drop Gabriel—and Me—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Love & Hate
"To be in love is not the same as loving. You can be in love with a woman and still hate her."
(FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY, The Brothers Karamazov)
(FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY, The Brothers Karamazov)
*Photo by Paulo Cesar, "Sweet Dreams are made of this..."
Love
What's wrong with you, with us,
what's happening to us?
Ah our love is a harsh cord
that binds us wounding us
and if we want
to leave our wound,
to separate,
it makes a new knot for us and condemns us
to drain our blood and burn together.
What's wrong with you? I look at you
and I find nothing in you but two eyes
like all eyes, a mouth
lost among a thousand mouths that I have kissed, more beautiful,
a body just like those that have slipped
beneath my body without leaving any memory.
And how empty you went through the world
like a wheat-colored jar
without air, without sound, without substance!
I vainly sought in you
depth for my arms
that dig, without cease, beneath the earth:
beneath your skin, beneath your eyes,
nothing,
beneath your double breast scarcely
raised
a current of crystalline order
that does not know why it flows singing.
Why, why, why,
my love, why?
Pablo Neruda
Sex
"It's just human. We all have the jungle inside of us. We all have wants and needs and desires, strange as they may seem."
*Photo by Vasco Pinheiroi like my body when it is with your...
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like,, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
e.e. cummings
Ephemeral
ephemeral
Adjective
lasting only for a short time [Greek hēmera day]
Adjective
lasting only for a short time [Greek hēmera day]
in Collins Essential English Dictionary 2nd Edition 2006 © HarperCollins Publishers 2004, 2006
“The most ideal human passion is love, which is also the most absolute and animal and one of the most ephemeral.”
(George Santayana)
*Photo by Susana Ferreira
Ephemera
'Your eyes that once were never weary of mine
Are bowed in sorrow under pendulous lids,
Because our love is waning.'
And then She:
'Although our love is waning, let us stand
By the lone border of the lake once more,
Together in that hour of gentleness
When the poor tired child, passion, falls asleep.
How far away the stars seem, and how far
Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!'
Pensive they paced along the faded leaves,
While slowly he whose hand held hers replied:
'Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.'
The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves
Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once
A rabbit old and lame limped down the path;
Autumn was over him: and now they stood
On the lone border of the lake once more:
Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves
Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes,
In bosom and hair.
'Ah, do not mourn,' he said,
'That we are tired, for other loves await us;
Hate on and love through unrepining hours.
Before us lies eternity; our souls
Are love, and a continual farewell.'
William Butler Yeats
Dreams
"We live, as we dream - alone."
(Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness)
Mad Girl's Love Song
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
Sylvia Plath
Departure
"Pudesse esta noite durar não uma mas duas noites inteiras"
(Eugénio de Andrade)
*Photo by Fátima Serrão Lopes Juliet
You wish to go? It still is not near day.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fretful hollow of your ear.
That pomegranate tree’s her nightly perch.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Romeo
It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale. Look, love, malicious streaks,
They lace the clouds dispersing in the east.
Night’s candles are burnt out, and jovial day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Juliet
That light is not daylight, I know it’s so.
It is some meteor the sun exhaled
To be for you tonight a torch-bearer
And lead you on your way to Mantua.
Stay longer then, you do not need to go.
Romeo
Let me be seized, let me be put to death.
I am content, if you wish it to be.
I’ll say that gray is not the morning’s eye,
It’s just the pale reflection of the moon.
And that’s no lark whose notes reverb against
The arching sky so high above our heads.
The wish to stay exceeds the will to go.
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wants it so.
How is my sweet? Let’s talk? It is not day.
Juliet
It is, it is! Be quick, now go away!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Discordant strains and jarring notes too sharp.
Some say the lark can intermingle tunes.
This one does not, for she’s not mingling us.
Some say the lark and loathsome toad swap eyes.
I wish that they’d exchange their voices too,
For arm from arm we’re scattered by the day.
“The Hunt is On”, it calls, and you’re away.
O, now be gone. More light and light it grows.
Romeo
More light and light—then darker are our woes!
Romeo and Juliet,
by William Shakespeare
SOLD - BRIGHT BALDWIN SPINET PIANO - $1100
Spicy Look + Great Quality!
Acrosonic is made by Baldwin -- the best manufacturer of spinets. This sweety has a bright tone and easy key action. And look at that adorable, mid-century modern cabinet! The only drawback is that "junior" drew on the key tops with an ink pen. Well... at least it has been a beloved instrument in its short life. Yours for only $1100.
Spicy Look + Great Quality!
Acrosonic is made by Baldwin -- the best manufacturer of spinets. This sweety has a bright tone and easy key action. And look at that adorable, mid-century modern cabinet! The only drawback is that "junior" drew on the key tops with an ink pen. Well... at least it has been a beloved instrument in its short life. Yours for only $1100.
Friendship
“One measure of friendship consists not in the number of things friends can discuss, but in the number of things they need no longer mention.”
(Clifton Fadiman)
Friends Within The Darkness
I can remember starving in a
small room in a strange city
shades pulled down, listening to
classical music
I was young I was so young it hurt like a knife
inside
because there was no alternative except to hide as long
as possible--
not in self-pity but with dismay at my limited chance:
trying to connect.
the old composers -- Mozart, Bach, Beethoven,
Brahms were the only ones who spoke to me and
they were dead.
finally, starved and beaten, I had to go into
the streets to be interviewed for low-paying and
monotonous
jobs
by strange men behind desks
men without eyes men without faces
who would take away my hours
break them
piss on them.
now I work for the editors the readers the
critics
but still hang around and drink with
Mozart, Bach, Brahms and the
Bee
some buddies
some men
sometimes all we need to be able to continue alone
are the dead
rattling the walls
that close us in.
Charles Bukowski
Loss
loss (lôs, ls)
n.
1. The act or an instance of losing: nine losses during the football season.
2.
a. One that is lost: wrote their flooded house off as a loss.
b. The condition of being deprived or bereaved of something or someone: mourning their loss.
c. The amount of something lost: selling at a 50 percent loss.
3. The harm or suffering caused by losing or being lost.
in Free Dictionary.com
n.
1. The act or an instance of losing: nine losses during the football season.
2.
a. One that is lost: wrote their flooded house off as a loss.
b. The condition of being deprived or bereaved of something or someone: mourning their loss.
c. The amount of something lost: selling at a 50 percent loss.
3. The harm or suffering caused by losing or being lost.
in Free Dictionary.com
“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”
(Norman Cousins)
*Photo by A.D.L. e D.G.B. (edited)
Saddest Poem
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
Pablo Neruda
Respect
re·spect
play_w2("R0180400")
(r-spkt)
tr.v. re·spect·ed, re·spect·ing, re·spects
1. To feel or show deferential regard for; esteem.
2. To avoid violation of or interference with: respect the speed limit.
3. To relate or refer to; concern.
n.
1. A feeling of appreciative, often deferential regard; esteem. (...)
2. The state of being regarded with honor or esteem.
3. Willingness to show consideration or appreciation.
4. respects Polite expressions of consideration or deference: pay one's respects.
5. A particular aspect, feature, or detail: In many respects this is an important decision. (...)
play_w2("R0180400")
(r-spkt)
tr.v. re·spect·ed, re·spect·ing, re·spects
1. To feel or show deferential regard for; esteem.
2. To avoid violation of or interference with: respect the speed limit.
3. To relate or refer to; concern.
n.
1. A feeling of appreciative, often deferential regard; esteem. (...)
2. The state of being regarded with honor or esteem.
3. Willingness to show consideration or appreciation.
4. respects Polite expressions of consideration or deference: pay one's respects.
5. A particular aspect, feature, or detail: In many respects this is an important decision. (...)
in Free Dictionary.com
*Photo by Paulo Vieira, "Sobre o Altar"
“I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me... All I ask is that you respect me as a human being.”
(Jackie Robinson)
Emptiness
Emptiness as a human condition can be thought of in multiple ways.
Emptiness is often a painful experience or feeling.
In the painful sense, it is described as a feeling of numbness, inability to feel anything emotionally, or not having purpose. It can be better described as a situation where a certain lack or lacks in one's life overtake the emotional and mental focus in an obsessive, sometimes subconscious manner. Feelings of emptiness often accompany chronic discontent, dysthymia, depression, loneliness, despair. It may seek expression through different types of self-harming behaviors, and in more extreme cases, suicide.
Emptiness often involves alienation, be it temporary or acquired, and sometimes self-hatred. A sense of emptiness is not always associated as such, and may be part of a natural process of grief, as resulting of separation, death of a loved one, or other significant changes to one's life.
Emptiness is often a painful experience or feeling.
In the painful sense, it is described as a feeling of numbness, inability to feel anything emotionally, or not having purpose. It can be better described as a situation where a certain lack or lacks in one's life overtake the emotional and mental focus in an obsessive, sometimes subconscious manner. Feelings of emptiness often accompany chronic discontent, dysthymia, depression, loneliness, despair. It may seek expression through different types of self-harming behaviors, and in more extreme cases, suicide.
Emptiness often involves alienation, be it temporary or acquired, and sometimes self-hatred. A sense of emptiness is not always associated as such, and may be part of a natural process of grief, as resulting of separation, death of a loved one, or other significant changes to one's life.
(in Wikipedia)
*Photo by Rui Bento Alves, "Uma Pessoa no Escuro"
Empty my Heart, of Thee—
Its single Artery—
Begin, and leave Thee out—
Simply Extinction's Date—
Much Billow hath the Sea—
One Baltic—They—Subtract Thyself, in play,
And not enough of me
Is left—to put away—
"Myself" meanth Thee—
Erase the Root—no Tree—Thee—
then—no me—The Heavens stripped—
Eternity's vast pocket, picked—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Memories...
As Trains Go By...
... and snow drips from the sky
i remember a white winter dove
and the cold that warmed her love
It fitted us both as if a silk glove
It turned us weary as if we were a lie
but with a kiss, as trains went by - I knew -
we had time.
Photo and Poem by D.G.B.
Disappointment
Main Entry:
dis·ap·point·ment
Pronunciation:
\ˌdis-ə-ˈpȯint-mənt\
Function:
noun
Date:
1604
1 : the act or an instance of disappointing : the state or emotion of being disappointed 2 : one that disappoints
dis·ap·point·ment
Pronunciation:
\ˌdis-ə-ˈpȯint-mənt\
Function:
noun
Date:
1604
1 : the act or an instance of disappointing : the state or emotion of being disappointed 2 : one that disappoints
(in Merriam Webster Dictionary)
"As pessoas têm uma enorme capacidade de se enganarem a si próprias." (Dr. J. Baptista)
*Photo by David Guimarães, "People Aren't What They Seem To Be"
Never Give All The Heart
Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy. Kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.
William Butler Yeats
Incompleteness
Incompleteness: the state of not being complete.
Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.
there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else
fills.
Charles Bukowski
Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.
there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else
fills.
Charles Bukowski
Ambivalence
"Ambivalence is a state of having emotions in contradiction, when those emotions are related to the same object, idea or person (for example, feeling both love and hatred for someone or something). The term is also commonly used to refer to situations where 'mixed feelings' of a more general sort are experienced or where a person feels uncertainty or indecisiveness concerning something."
in Wikipedia
in Wikipedia
*Photo by Isabel Silva, "Ser... e não ser"
"In love the paradox occurs that two beings become one and yet remain two." (Erich Fromm)
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
Pablo Neruda
Illusion
"I've realized that the past and the future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is." (Alan Watts)
*Photo by José Vaz Meneses, "Ilusão"
illusion
Noun
1. a false appearance or deceptive impression of reality: her upswept hair gave the illusion of above average height
2. a false or misleading idea or belief: we may suffer from the illusion that we are special [Latin illusio deceit]
hc_dict()
Collins Essential English Dictionary
Noun
1. a false appearance or deceptive impression of reality: her upswept hair gave the illusion of above average height
2. a false or misleading idea or belief: we may suffer from the illusion that we are special [Latin illusio deceit]
hc_dict()
Collins Essential English Dictionary
2nd Edition 2006 © HarperCollins Publishers 2004, 2006
"Apenas nos iludimos, pensando ser donos das coisas, dos instantes e dos outros. Comigo caminham todos os mortos que amei, todos os amigos que se afastaram, todos os dias felizes que se apagaram. Não perdi nada, apenas a ilusão de que tudo podia ser meu para sempre."
Miguel Esteves Cardoso (enviado há anos por um amigo que me soube sentir)
Yamaha Piano Facts
I have written a page of information that is designed to dispel some myths associated with Yamaha Piano sales. You can view the page below:
Yamaha Piano Facts
If you have any questions just drop me a line, I'll be happy to help.
Regards,
Mark of Royton for Yamaha Piano and Kawai Piano sales. See the Yamaha U3 page for special interest.
Yamaha Piano Facts
If you have any questions just drop me a line, I'll be happy to help.
Regards,
Mark of Royton for Yamaha Piano and Kawai Piano sales. See the Yamaha U3 page for special interest.
Yamaha Piano Tips
I have made a "Yamaha Piano tips" page that contains useful information regarding Yamaha Piano Cabinets and brasswork. Hopefully I will be adding more cabinet-related information to that page over time, but for now, that is all it contains.
As ever,
signing off
Mark
Signature:
Pianos for Sale in Royton. I recommend the Yamaha U3 and the Yamaha U1 upright pianos.
As ever,
signing off
Mark
Signature:
Pianos for Sale in Royton. I recommend the Yamaha U3 and the Yamaha U1 upright pianos.
Yamaha Piano Guide
I've just made a Yamaha Piano guide that deals with some important aspects of buying a used Yamaha Piano. I recommend the reading material contained within it. Much of which can be found at my other Yamaha U3 and Yamaha U1 pages. Or just go straight to my Yamaha Piano page for the full story.
that's all for now
regards,
Mark from Royton
that's all for now
regards,
Mark from Royton
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