Mésange – Heliotrope

mesange

You know, I’ve had a right old day of music today. I honestly can’t remember what I started with, but I went over to some deep house for a while after which I listened to the frankly fantastic Mr Wibblies Chiller, which is brilliant music for home working.

Well, how do you follow that?

You follow that with this.

This is all atmospheric and stuff, though I wouldn’t go as far as saying mellow. In fact, I don’t think I’d go anywhere near saying mellow. It responds to the need for background music but it also rewards deep listening. It is also one of those marvellous things which sits in my head as frankly uncategorisable. I like when that happens.

RIYL good stuff.

Right now, I’m rocking out with Rico.

 

Wart Biter

wart biter

And this is why I hate trying to describe music and gave up the futile effort. So non-sequiturs it is.

There is a pyramid above me, but it goes in both directions i.e. point up and point at the top. It’s really difficult to put it into words, bit like trying to describe music, really. But contained within those bounds are an infinity of possibilities.

Imagine: there are two lines on a single page. The lines themselves never actually meet, but the page they are on is finite. Nevertheless, the possibilities are infinite.

I could talk all day, and much to my children’s chagrin, I sometimes do. However, I only know so many words (roughly a hundred and thirteen) and yet, nevertheless, and although I often repeat myself, the possibilities are actually infinite.

The problem with infinity is that no one knows what it actually is, or even if it is. This, ladles and gentlespoon, is what I now suspect may be the true purpose behind the creative impulse (a.k.a. life) – trying to find out whether infinity is actually infinite.

So, what makes your head hurt more? The picture on the above album, or my essay? Me, it’s the lurgee.