Energy is scarce early this year. Fertilizes my patience, as my hours spent resting. These hours do not seem to accumulate but toning her man. I get up, morale has resigned and the mouth to find his body in the sun. We account for the years, those of the past, and we wish to find this music, Mozart or someone else, that will rekindle the fires of glory.
Fortunately, the sacred writing keeps me warm. The desire to write powerful and healing, is beautiful and well presented, honest like a captain which has nothing to lose. My instincts are becoming clearer, but I'm still losing something, vitality, perhaps, or courage, or both. Mornings are my struggles, my evenings are indolent, and I think it is often the case in January. Nevertheless, a book with me. It's still there we can learn something.
As usual, I will not force the melancholy, for good laughs are still there, somewhere, waiting around the bend. The best is to go outside and see, feel, get caught up in the music of the sky and clouds. These days, more than any other music lulls me that Beethoven his Quartet in B flat major op. 130 , dating from his last creative period.
spleenique Despite a ticket, I hope that 2011 can go and on about febrile better and it pushes you to work with joy and abandon. Health will do the rest!
Claudio
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