All is quiet

I’m listening. A Cheerful and bold sound is breaking out step by step, getting to a martial, obsessive and galloping rhythm.
The shocks  become fingers plunging and caressing the keys of a piano made out of dirt and rocks. Deft and strong, these hydraulic  fingers hammer the soil asperities with graceful energy, they absorb its secrets and work out a brand new acoustic dream.

Melody and energy blended together to dominate our minds. Sometimes sweet, sometimes smooth, then psychedelic.  In rapture we run fast to make the sound come true, the enchanting sound we create that possesses us.
Passion, speed and fantasy are the founding elements of a composition reaching its climax in the aerial silence.  All is quiet.


The hydraulic fingers raise up to the sky, they don’t beat the piano keys anymore, but soar as if they invoked the sublime. Precious and stylish moments. The awareness of rhythmic mastery.
Then, the melody starting once again, more and more determined.

Somewhere in the wood of Finale Ligure
17th January 2007