It is conceivable that what is unified form to the author or composer may of necessity be formless to his audience.
quote by Charles Ives
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Unified
It could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
Weather youre a black man
Or youre a white man
Or your from england or from japan
Or youre from chili or youre and american
Youre from the middle east or youre and african
Well it could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
Now come on everyone on this place come together
Wouldnt it be nice if we could all live together forever
Finding our peach in unity
Destroying the noting of foolish vanities
Pull to rise
Lift the blinds
The funky dope is here in 1999
And were praising so were raising out of this oblivion
And on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on
You cant stop this with your mind tricks
Like neo in the matrix Im chosen
Uplift with the gift
Like gandolf the wizard
I conjure a blizzard of magic to ride it high
Unified unified unified
Unified unified unified
It could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
They dont want it in their government
They dont want it with their politricks
They dont want it with their brainwash
They dont want it with their money fix
Unified unified unified
Unified unified unified
I want it want it want it want it
It could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The pure impulse of dynamic creation is formless and being formless, the creation it gives rise to can assume any and every form.
You, to whom I am myself
O You Who Are - the formless, nameless One,
more real than all forms and names can speak:
You for whom we seek to find a name
and yet who has no name, who needs no name;
You for whom we seek to shape a form
and yet who has no form, who needs no form;
Yet whom we name in every name we speak,
and whom we see in every form we seek:
is there some name bestowed for nameless name,
a form imagined for a formless form,
by which all hearts today that seek themselves
may shape their search as if for One unknown?
may kneel in front of their own golden throne?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Hearts,
who’s spoken of in heartfelt praise of glorious human brilliance,
endeavour, art, achievement and discovery;
the Lord who gave us hearts to know we love?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Self,
whom we all know when we relax, become
more our known self, in silence, rest, or company
that sparkles round a table built of happiness?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Consciousness
in whom we live and move, and be; yet never see
for you’re the seeing in ourself; to whom we wake
and know, and stand securely, watching all?
I ask You for the sound of some new yet eternal name;
that sound by which all quickly know themself
and talk once more from hearts forever free,
of what we are, and know, and love to be.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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If you aim at anything lower that is expecting your audience to be really alert and aware, then you're going to be caught out sooner or later as a composer.
quote by Peter Maxwell Davies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Asking the author of historical novels to teach you about history is like expecting the composer of a melody to provide answers about radio transmission.
quote by Lion Feuchtwanger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the composer and production staff of an opera have a real responsibility to use visual elements of all kinds to make clear to the American audience, at any rate, exactly what is going on.
quote by John Eaton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Which is why, in my lieder concerts, I always strove, when possible, to sing only the works of a single composer, so that the audience could be gradually drawn into a particular creative genius' way of thinking, and could follow him.
quote by Dietrich Fischer Dieskau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You can kiss me; only If
You can kiss me on my voluptuously rubicund cheeks
all right; but only if your kiss had the power to
wonderfully transcend over every other conceivable
kiss drifting ominously towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my seductively tantalizing nape all
right; but only if your kiss had the tenacity to
miraculously overpower every other conceivable kiss
drifting atrociously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my rhapsodically vivacious hair all
right; but only if your kiss had the temerity to
supremely outshadow every other conceivable kiss
drifting egregiously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my enthrallingly ebullient lips all
right; but only if your kiss had the charisma to
irrefutably nullify every other conceivable kiss
drifting vindictively towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my bountifully emollient palms all
right; but only if your kiss had the superiority to
timelessly conquer every other conceivable kiss
drifting baselessly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my surreally royal forehead all
right; but only if your kiss had the magic to
unbelievably decimate every other conceivable kiss
drifting truculently towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my daintily embellished feet all
right; but only if your kiss had the magnetism to
insuperably supercede every other conceivable kiss
drifting salaciously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my robustly titillating belly all
right; but only if your kiss had the caress to
astronomically triumph over every other conceivable
kiss drifting parasitically towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my uncontrollably trembling skin
all right; but only if your kiss had the color to
wholesomely camouflage every other conceivable kiss
drifting beguilingly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my enigmatically arcane palms all
right; but only if your kiss had the fortitude to
entirely sideline every other conceivable kiss
drifting hedonistically towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my mellifluously dangling earlobes
all right; but only if your kiss had the ardor to
poignantly overrule every other conceivable kiss
drifting flagrantly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my unfathomably scented fingers all
right; but only if your kiss had the righteousness to
unsurpassably defeat every other conceivable kiss
drifting hideously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my mischievously cavorting shadow
all right; but only if your kiss had the intensity to
unnervingly destroy every other conceivable kiss
drifting raunchily towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my aristocratically iridescent
shoulders all right; but only if your kiss had the
compassion to circumscribe every other conceivable
kiss drifting bizarrely towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my sensuously inebriating eyes all
right; but only if your kiss had the brilliance to
unprecedentedly blaze over every other conceivable
kiss drifting acrimoniously towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my artistically sculptured chin all
right; but only if your kiss had the guts to
indomitably rule over every other conceivable kiss
drifting heinously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my inimitably graceful spine all
right; but only if your kiss had the heavenliness to
eternally outclass every other conceivable kiss
drifting malevolently towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
And you can kiss me on my immortally throbbing heart
all right; but only if your kiss had the kinsmanship
to forever subjugate and subdue every other
conceivable kiss drifting venomously towards my
direction; for times beyond an infinite more
lifetimes…
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Any composer who is gloriously conscious that he is a composer must believe that he receives his inspiration from a source higher than himself.
quote by John Philip Sousa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Originally, I wanted to be a composer. I always tell people, 'I think of myself as a composer.'
quote by Ornette Coleman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unfinished Symphony for M lady Tara
The ultimate pastoral symphony,
beyond the skill of man to reproduce.
Of all the music I have heard I choose
the complex interweaving melody.
Of flowing brooks and the wind in the trees
all natural sounds are put to use.
No sound the great composer will refuse
to use for his exquisite harmonies.
The wind the waters and the tree s combine.
Supported by the voices of a host
of living things who add their voices to
form part of a symphony divine.
The great composer has no need to boast
about his compositions ever new.
12-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I find respect for a mediocre British composer, as opposed to a really good American, ridiculous because they automatically respect a composer if he's from England.
quote by John Corigliano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I dream of a collaboration that would finally be total, in which the librettist would often think as a composer and the composer as a librettist.
quote by Jacques Ibert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anne of Snow
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow;
Of winter laughs and aves in modes of white;
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
For always feeling of her mirth and flow;
Orison's company betimes forthright;
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow.
What is important to keep tight, and stow
Ghost nuptial forms of Sunday's blue shore bight,
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
In silence comes, snow's pure to bestow;
my winter's sole adviser dreams benight;
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow.
White blanket to descend, a silent flow;
The sovereign of woods, in wordless rite;
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
Retention of her intellect to show,
Perceptual is her entity and plight;
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow;
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Sonnet 11
is it any wonder i have no words to tell
how my heart yearns in absence of you?
the night revives this constant hell-
no vision replaces dark with bright view,
prefiguring the visitation of your form
in sacred majesty, transfiguring night
in darkened soul to that majesty. in turn,
unformed dark, unchanged by celestial Light
formless dark remains, unilluminated by art.
your timeless form, unsculpted by love's pencil,
lends no body to the unformed in my heart.
no form heart forms new, nor does it chisel.
thus your form, unchiselled in my inner eye,
and your heart, my inner sense can't spy.
poem by Doug Bentley
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Be Audience Rare
do not write
to fickle audience
be audience rare
write what
themes
flow choose
most
rarely read
rhymes
no time to waste
on audience present
will eternity wait?
do not write
to audience
be audience rare
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I really liked doing a number of the projects and directors, and etc., etc., I knew about half-way through that I would never be doing that again. It's just not me. I really am happy as a part-time film composer, not a full-time film composer.
quote by Danny Elfman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Listening One
The Listening One
Does he, did he, know, what he contributed
to the truth of what was spoken?
Towards the back seats of the lecture room,
this tidy, slim, quiet, dark-complexioned youth
listened with unwavering attention;
so much in the moment, his mind, so visibly,
claiming nothing; receiving all that there was to receive;
contributing, all that an audience can:
under his so steady listening,
I could not lie, blur, dodge; be anything
but dedicated to the truth;
from his attention, through my own,
he gave the audience more than I prepared.
I wonder if he knows the gift he’s shaped.
How many others has he blessed thus, with himself?
The Hindus have a name for him:
the Southward Facing, and the Formless One;
the Self as youth who teaches elders by his silence.
You may have met him, mortal, once or twice;
I wonder if he knows his priceless gift?
*
[A long-delayed debt of gratitude never since forgotten.]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Reclining Nude
How fruitful the rounded limbs of the reclining nude
Soft contours long to be caressed by the eye
In all feminine holds robust strength
Fragility insults the perception of woman.
In this form sensual solidity and sweetened slopes of eb and flow
A womb of seeds transcribes life's intriguing form
Breasts propped, from which warm heart of desire appears to beat
Thighs that lay unified with the gravity of the Mother Earth.
poem by Stevie Taite
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I hate the actor and audience business. An author should be in among the crowd, kicking their shins or cheering them on to some mischief or merriment.
quote by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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