Beau changement de ton, lumineux et aventureux.

Superbe réalisation musicale. Vraiment de toute beauté. Quel beau travail. Grand bravo.

Magnifiques harmonies et atmosphère... Merci beaucoup pour cette splendide composition!

Musique/Music : Julien Morency

It's kind of funny how surprising it can be when you have no real plan or specific idea when creating music.  Now I realize how this track can sound like 80's in style....though a fan of this style I never was, but I must admit I always love experimenting with these kind of sounds & instruments ;)

C'est parfois surprenant ce qu'on peut créer comme musique quand on a pas de plan ou d'idée précise.  Cette pièce sonne un peu années 80 ou dans ce style, pourtant j'ai jamais été trop fan de cette époque.  Par contre j'ai toujours aimé essayer et bidouiller ce genre de sons et instruments ;)

Neon

Acheter/Buy

As we grew older and older, we began to lose the innocence we had as children. In this composition I wanted to remember those years, at the beginning of our lives.

Project 2004

Víctor Villamor...Whistle
Javier Piñeira...... Spanish and acoustic guitar

Innocence

BadGear

An atmospheric piece of music for guitar, synths, woodwinds and cello.  It starts mysterious and gets more and more emotional as it unfolds.

The Crystal Way

Automne

Umbra Lucis

Drunk Bear

la charrière profonde est un grand chemin creux, bordé de feuillus qui forment des arches pour abriter les rêves au pas du promeneur

en marchant dans la charrière profonde

Taken from the oral history of Bedford Falls:

“My friends and I, back in the seemingly endless golden summer of our childhood, all knew the story of the town; how could we not know it? We drank it in with every drink of water until the very cells in our body were awash with the story of how the town came in to being and how it ceased to be. 

Our parents’ generation remembered the tree-dappled summer streets lined with shops, and with places to sit and talk as the shadows lengthened; for in those days the town - and the world in general - had enough time and space in twenty-four hours to progress at a much more leisurely pace than us youngsters born in the ‘30s would ever know. By the time we had seen eight or nine summers the town was already gone; a faraway place that we would and could never visit.

But then, the world our parents knew had begun to spin faster; the light of oil lanterns on the porches of the scattered homesteads with their glow-worm warmth, had been replaced by electric light bulbs, piercing the blue-black ink of night until the stars seemed to fade at their brilliance.

Of course, electric lights and all the other modern inventions that had begun to creep into people’s lives needed electricity and so it was decided to dam the river to power the turbines that would make people’s lives spin at an ever-increasing rate.

So the town to us was an intangible somewhere deep beneath the surface of the waters and yet, every so often, a small reminder of the town would surface. Shivering in the golden sunlight we would hear of someone, a friend of a friend,  who diving deep in the still early morning hours would catch a glimpse of the pharmacist sweeping the sunken sidewalk outside his shop; or a canopy being unfolded to prevent the none-existent sun from bleaching the window display of submerged handbags and fish-caressed umbrellas.

My friends spent many of the seemingly endless days swimming and hoping to catch a glimpse of such wonders but, sadly, we never did. Perhaps it was because we were there too early, or maybe too late? We swore we’d never stop trying and we didn’t, well, until other things - like girls and wars - captured our fickle imagination.

Now, after so many years, when I’m nearer to the end of the story than the beginning and I’ve lived long enough to finally sit on my own glow-worm glowing porch; now, when I’ve turned my back on the lake and face instead the ocean of stars above my rural hideaway, now I imagine I can sometimes hear distant church bells singing beneath the midnight waters and see, in my mind’s eye, the tree-lined streets with shops and places to sit. 

I’m clearly remembering a time from before I was born, from before I learned to swim in the sky above the small town; a time when twenty four hours really did feel like twenty-four hours instead of the merest flash that could’ve been a shooting star, or maybe sunlight on the scales of a fish”

The Small Town Reawakens

Dream

Spleen

merci pour votre écoute. vous pouvez me retrouver sur youtube    https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCG2uL5owtXcuRM5tlv2f2hw/videos

Umbra Lucis

willy moreno compositeur

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