This is the man who awakened my love for Celtic music.
I was 14 years old.
At the time, I was already obsessed to know everything about the Celts. Something inside me had been screaming, I am a Celt, I do not belong here, I belong to the Celtic world. Lees verder
This is the man who awakened my love for Celtic music.
I was 14 years old.
At the time, I was already obsessed to know everything about the Celts. Something inside me had been screaming, I am a Celt, I do not belong here, I belong to the Celtic world. It was a feeling of homesickness, a yearning beyond all words, so strong that it was unbearable.
But I had yet no idea, Celtic ways and language and music was still alive and well in Brittany, Ireland, Scotland, Wales. When I found out, I was jumping with joy and excitement.
When I heard this music, it went so deep inside my soul, realms of recognition were opening up, I cried and laughed and danced all at the same time, I had finally found my home.
This was the music that told me everything I needed to know.
I finally knew who I was.
And my soul found peace. . .
If you read this all through, I thank you.
And thank you Alan Stivell !!!
At least it kept us busy for a while, provided some good entertainment and distraction in the meantime. . . .
It is gone, already gone, it hasn't left a trace, for it was just a Lees verder
The ego has gone where it came from;
Nowhere.
It doesn't matter anymore.
At least it kept us busy for a while, provided some good entertainment and distraction in the meantime. . . .
It is gone, already gone, it hasn't left a trace, for it was just a fata morgana, a dream, an illusion, it was never really there. Like darkness disappears without a trace as soon as the light goes on.
It has gone back to never really having been here at all.
The ego has no ground to stand on, it has no way to go.
It left before it arrived. We look at merely a reflection.
And we love it, we are so attached, to taking the reflection for reality. We are the movie star in our own picture show, aren't we our own greatest fan?
We can run, we can hide, we can play, we can fight.
But we can't run away, from ourselves. . . .
And we are coming back. . . . . .
there is no other way. . .
Resistence is futile.
Leave the rubbish
Whatever can be forgotten, is bound to be forgotten.
Whatever is true, is here to stay forever. . . .
