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Nocturnal Reveries : An Owl’s Tales, Op. 12

Tales Of The Dawn Owl, Op. 12 No. 2

In the end, The Young Man made it through to the center of the giant Heart of the World, corrupted by darkness. 

He was all alone here, because The Wounded Healer died during their last battle. He saw the core right in front of him. The pure light. So warm. So white... like the sunlight, he was never felt before.

He didn't want this world to die. He wanted to save it. But it was the fate that brought him here, to the end of the story.

The Young Man felt something like a friendly warmth in his own heart. That was The Wounded Healer's soul, accompanying him to the very end.

They both wanted to save this world from dying. They promised to protect it at any cost. But now, the boy must destroy it himself, to recreate once again. In the end, boy understood that life never gives us what we want as we see it, but as it is given to us. And although, he himself become the End he was trying to avoid, he will have a chance to create the very new world, being a God. Being the new hope of the world he will make by himself.

The Young Man took the core of pure light in his hands, put it in his chest, and wished to cleanse this world.

Everything disappeared in a second...
There was a light everywhere. The white light.
And so, The Young Man decided to create the new world.

The world he can call his new home.

Wind of Farewell

The first great poet I really knew was my maternal grandfather.  While his passion was caring for his congregation as a minister, poetry was his greatest gift.  His poems were beautifully written, moving and spilled straight out of his heart to be shared with others.

One of my most treasured possessions is a small book of poetry with just a fraction of his work.  In that book, there are poems written for friends going through dark times after the loss of a child, joyous verses written for his 50th wedding anniversary, and works revealing how much he was moved by daily life and his extensive travel to places near and far.

This composition is written not only for my grandfather, but for poets past and present, who share their hearts with us all.

The Poet

Brahms Intermezzo - Opus 118 No. 2

Between Chords and Silences

From Four Venezuelan Waltzes - II. Andréina & III. Natalia  
Composer Antonio Lauro  

Performed by Plínio Fernandes 
Recorded live at Riverbank Arts Centre, Newbridge, Kildare on Saturday 5th April 2025.

Part of a Music Network tour. 
5 - 13 April 2025, toured to Kildare, Dublin, Galway, Clare, Wexford and Waterford.

Recorded, Edited & Mixed by Donncha Moynihan (The Rise Studio | Cork) 

From Four Venezuelan Waltzes - II. Andréina & III. Natalia - Composer Antonio Lauro

An album to indulge thoughts about how you can grow to become your best you.

Count To Ten

Sometimes a melody appears out of nowhere, as if someone were guiding their fingers by drawing a line that ends up being beautiful, without having put in any intention, any previous idea, any structure and, obviously, no architecture. It flows and emerges. It happens to me often and I don't know how to explain it. It is an easy air. It lets go and fills the environment. If sound is vibration in the air, I can find no other explanation than feeling that the air facilitates the vibration having its echo. The air accompanies this composition-improvisation. And the air structures it. And the air amplifies it. And that's how it is and that's how it flows.
A voltes una melodia apareix del no res, com si algú guiés els dits dibuixant una línia que acaba sent bonica, sense que hagi posat cap intenció, cap idea prèvia, cap estructura i, evidentment, cap arquitectura.  Flueix i sorgeix. Em passa sovint i no sé explicar-ho. És un aire fàcil. Es deixa anar i omple l'ambient. Si el so és vibració en l'aire no trobo més explicació que el sentir que l'aire facilita que la vibració tingui el seu eco. L'aire acompanya aquesta composició-improvisació. I l'aire l'estructura. I l'aire l'amplifica. I així és i així flueix.
A veces una melodía aparece de la nada, como si alguien guiara los dedos dibujando una línea que acaba siendo bonita, sin que haya puesto ninguna intención, ninguna idea previa, ninguna estructura y, evidentemente, ninguna arquitectura. Fluye y surge. Me pasa a menudo y no sé explicarlo. Es un aire fácil.  Se deja ir y llena el ambiente. Si el sonido es vibración en el aire no encuentro ninguna explicación más que el sentir que el aire facilita que esa vibración tenga su eco. El aire acompaña esta composición-improvisación. Y el aire la estructura. El aire la amplifica. Y así es y así fluye.

Les airs faciles

Quatuor à cordes n°1 en Ré Majeur - 3 - Moderato

From "Lieder ohne Worte". Piano solo
I recommend listening with headphones……

Menselssohn Op.30.N01 )performer Ad van Nederpelt)

BePop

Home-made tunes, rhythms and pulses of a digital palette. Whistle along.

BePop

Peter McDonnell

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