I Am A Stranger To Myself
Hi I'm Patrick
(Source: alwaysfan, via clarinet-geek)
(via carielizabeth)
Im liking the way this weekend is looking
it's because he was russian
tchaikovsky:
hmmm this 1812 overture finale still needs something
tchaikovsky:
ok i got flutes, clarinets, oboes, violins, tuba, blah blah blah
tchaikovsky:
boring
tchaikovsky:
hmmm
tchaikovsky:
tchaikovsky:
tchaikovsky:
i got it
tchaikovsky:
16 PIECES OF MUZZLE-LOADING ARTILLERY OF THE CONDUCTOR'S CHOICE
tchaikovsky:
there
tchaikovsky:
that should do it
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.
Classical people's problems.
Me:
Do you know when the 1812 Overture was composed?
You:
1812, isn't it obvious?
Me:
...
Me:
...
Me:
...
Me:
It was 1880.
For the moment, the jazz is playing; there is no melody, only notes, a myriad of tiny jolts. They know no rest, an inflexible order gives birth to them and destroys them without even giving them time to recuperate and exist for themselves. They race, they press forward, they strike me a sharp blow in passing and are obliterated. I would like to hold them back, but I know if I succeeded in stopping one it would remain between my fingers only as a raffish languishing sound. I must accept their death; I must even will it. I know few impressions stronger or more harsh.
— Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea (via zhaozhou)
(Source: thebdag)
