Sensual Theorems

A Little Black Cloud, Gene Jumper, ( Original )

___🎹_____A_N_O_T_H_E_R___M_U_S_I_C_____🎹___
_____BE CURIOUS, CREATIVE, INVENTIVE, DARE!_____

It is obvious that we are going to run out of resources in many areas, humans are asking too much of our poor, depleting planet, but what is going to be sorely lacking and is essential to life is WATER!

🛠 - Made with MOOG & Modular / Multi-tracks
🎹 - Composed, arranged, performed, produced by Pier WILL & Studio 4H09
🔲 - Artwork - Pier WILL
🙏 - Acknowledgements - Ableton, Arturia, Audacity, Cantabile, MSI, Focusrite, Korg, M-Audio, Sony, SoundCloud, Teac, Techniks, Yamaha.
⚙️ - #Ambient #Movies #Electro #Experimental #Minimal #Space

❤️Love, 🕊️Peace, 🙏Respect

The Water War

What began as a prosaic comment evolved into an enriching collaboration.  Our friend and Soundcloud poet laurate Peter joins us on a fishing voyage.  Seagull, not content to do a simple voice over, remixes the track and places us on a fishing boat, the sea a bit rough, the gulls impatient for part of the catch, and Peter not just reading but dynamically narrating what he is experiencing on the deck of the ship.  What an honor to work with these artists enlarging on our previous collaboration.  Please check out more of Seagull's music @farout-music-studio, and Peter's poignant songs and poetry @user-264930040

My sanctuary from archive gleans
The gentle times, wherein my mind
Recalls a childhood spent in dreams
Of bobbing boats on ocean spied.

Here, the call of a benevolent sea
The briny, perfumed honesty
Of adolescent memories.

But whence this salty desert sea
Where once the skinny trawler plied?
Plastic water ocean streams
Where finny, swimmy fish should lie.

Silenced of the chuggy motors
Decimated by their quotas
Where the haddock, cod and herring bloaters?

The factory ships that hoovered clean
Of scaly friends the sea main wide.
Its cheaply speckled high protein
Squandered as the herring gull cried.

Where the fishers, where the boats?
Where the nets, and yellow rubber coats?
Where the pots, and lines and corky floats?

...wherein my mind
Recalls a childhood spent in dreams
Of bobbing boats on ocean spied.
Why, they set sail for the past it seems,
Upon tomorrow's ebbing tide.

Childhood Memory--Updated (Seagull, David, and featuring Peter)

Dear Friend

Et, comme un long linceul traînant à l’Orient,
Entends, ma chère, entends la douce Nuit qui marche.
Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

Piano Impro #11 - Entends la Douce Nuit Qui Marche

Piano Impro #11 - Entends La Douce Nuit Qui Marche

Another evening in the traffic
stucked for hours on the highway
and all that , just for a ghostly day
behind a cash register

she wanted to write
sad but beautiful stories
just to sublimate her memories
her own little secrets
and reinvent her future
made of special days
without anyone having anything to say 

she dreamed to write
that she was a fighter , a rebel 
able to avoid the worse
and never grow old 
she dreamed to write
that she was blonde ans sensual
just to give herself the right to lie
and go laughing 
to see her own name on a book 
her name on a book 

she wanted to write
eternal stories
of betrayed hearts and feelings 
words that talk of her 
about this love that kills 
and reborn even stronger
some romantic comedies

she dreamed to write
that she was a fighter , a rebel 
able to avoid the worse
and never grow old 
she dreamed to write
that she was blonde ans sensual
just to give herself the right to lie
and go laughing 
to see her own name on a book 
her name on a book

Elle Rêvait D'écrire (she dreamed to write) translated lyrics

Strange Attraction Of A Deep Autumn Sky

Original by Derek & The Dominoes 1970

PJ Project: Drums & Bass

Have You Ever Loved A Woman, W/PdB Orchestra

;-Turbulence-;

Lyrics:
In the moisty heat of the night I measure the viscosity of time by applying group theory to the ice cubes in my glass of blood.
I want to sooth my aching synapses in the liquid sun of chaotic melodies and bath my eyes in the clouds of muffled harmonies. 
The marbled coalescence of the iridescent canopies drips with vibrating tentacles of abstruse sensations which insinuate themselves into the cortex of our vibratory emotions.
The mystical tentacles of devotion slither around my wrists and ankles war and delicately vibrating invading my thoughts with their glassy intuition.
I can summon ancient idols from the gulfs of time and abyssal tombs. And wrap my naked body in the moist lust of their gaze. I can invoke the runes of power and abstraction carved in the soapy stone of a lost asteroid. 
Last words of vanishing gods reverberate in the echoes of their glory while the whips of remorse tear up the petrified flesh of their deceived heralds.
The winged demons and the ragged angels will rejoice and kiss my aethereal feet. 
The tides will cover the sand of our imagination, green and everlasting and salty and cold.

Green Harmonies Of Sensual Digressions

Ain't Hurtin Nobody

Four piano  fragments:
I - Le lac, les roseaux à travers la brume (0 - 1min31)
II - Winter light (1min31 - 2min34)
III - Small morning melody (2min34 - 3min54)
IV - Nagaika remix (3min54 - 5min51)

Piano Impro #11 - Entends La Douce Nuit Qui Marche

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