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Enrique Salvador
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Enrique Salvador

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...Question is..How many Flowers. ...there are..on the PAINT..??..
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....Classy....interstin..
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....Niñitos sicolocos BEAUTIFUL all of you....this is for niñitos enjoy it....And carefully....jhajhajha...." I hope you never do..because there s nothing sadder than LOSING yourself falling in love "......
Had gone from here so I'm reinstating it. From "Later With Jools Holland" Oct 2008. Rowland Salley song.
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..Interstin....from another dimensions....It has a name..the Creative-illness. .when YOU can taste ----the colors....What isthe fuckin-name niñitos sicolocos..??.....jhajhajha.....This is your home-work..niñitos estudiosos.....jhajhajha......
 
1st February 1967 :

Pink Floyd spent the day recording parts for the Syd Barrett songs 'Arnold Layne' and 'Candy And A Current Bun' at Sound Techniques Studios, Chelsea, London. Floyd also turned professional on this day after signing a deal with EMI Records. 

"Arnold Layne" was the first single released by British psychedelic rock band The Pink Floyd (later simply Pink Floyd), shortly after landing a recording contract with EMI. It was written by Syd Barrett, their co-founder and original frontman. Although not originally included on the band's debut album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, "Arnold Layne" is featured on numerous Pink Floyd compilation albums.

The song's title character is a transvestite whose primary pastime is stealing women's clothes and undergarments from washing lines. According to Roger Waters, "Arnold Layne" was actually based on a real person: "Both my mother and Syd's mother had students as lodgers because there was a girls' college up the road so there were constantly great lines of bras and knickers on our washing lines and 'Arnold' or whoever he was, had bits off our washing lines."

In January, Pink Floyd went to Sound Techniques studio in Chelsea (they had been there previously, to record two songs for Tonite Let's All Make Love in London). Here, the band recorded "Arnold Layne", and few other songs: "Matilda Mother", "Chapter 24", "Interstellar Overdrive" and "Let's Roll Another One" (which was renamed to "Candy and a Currant Bun", at the lead of Waters). Nick Mason on the choice of "Arnold Layne": "We knew we wanted to be rock'n'roll stars and we wanted to make singles, so it seemed the most suitable song to condense into 3 minutes without losing too much". The band had tried to re-record "Arnold Layne" after signing up with EMI, but the Joe Boyd version from January was released instead. The song would be Boyd's last production for Pink Floyd.
Boyd mentioned in several interviews over the years that "Arnold Layne" regularly ran for ten to fifteen minutes in concert (with extended instrumental passages), but the band knew that it had to be shortened for use as a single. He has also said it was a complex recording involving some tricky editing, recalling that the middle instrumental section with Richard Wright's organ solo was recorded as an edit piece and spliced into the song for the final mix.
Both "Arnold Layne" and "Candy and a Currant Bun" were mixed into mono for the single. Both have never been given a stereo mix, though the four-track master tapes still exist in the EMI tape archive.

A black and white promotional film of "Arnold Layne" was made in late February 1967, directed by Derek Nice and featured members of Pink Floyd dressing up a mannequin before showing it around a beach in East Wittering, West Sussex. This promo, made for £2,000, was meant to be screened on 3 April 1967 for the BBC's Top of the Pops show, but cancelled when the single dropped down the chart. Another promotional film was recorded for the song, this time filmed on 29 April near St Michael's Church in Highgate. It is the only known footage of Barrett lip-synching to the song. It was shot in the spring of 1967, around the time that his mental deterioration began.

This is the Highgate video (1967) :
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....here its again....All the magic around us.....a little-gift for My -Cheerie......
 
The utterly unknown wrapped in mystery as ever...

"The dark dangerous forest is still there, my friends. Beyond the space of the astronauts and the astronomers, beyond the dark, tangled regions of Freudian and Jungian psychiatry, beyond the dubious psi-realms of Dr. Rhine, beyond the areas policed by the commissars and priests and motivations-research men, far, far beyond the mad, beat, half-hysterical laughter... the utterly unknown still is and the eerie and ghostly lurk, as much wrapped in mystery as ever."
― Fritz Leiber
http://mediarings.blogspot.com/
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..Welcome to my magic-madness kids....Am glad you like it my Cheerie..
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....What can we expected..??....She-is the -White-Wizard..isn't She..? ?....." love and respect the land..cause some-day....we gonna be part of "IT".....amazin Cheerie......
 
                           The face of spring man
                                 By Sherry Golding
                                 Prologue 


There was a time my friend when there was a dream and it was this dream that found its way into my story.
Planting its story so deep within the heart of a child, it was the wind, which began its tale.
Could the wind, so gentle in its movement, cause my mind to wonder if it were now awake?
Soft warmth touched upon my face and I felt my cheeks tingle from the warmth that never started out to harm me.

The whisper I heard came not from the winds which were slithering softly through the meadows, but from down by the pond where the waters were cast in stillness.
A round and brightly red apple threw itself from the tree, as if on a suicide jump, and yet found that the soft grass had saved it from being badly bruised.
 The whisper down near the still lake tried to reach me again, and for a moment, I seemed trapped within a serene painting when a pastel blue butterfly floated past in slow motion. 

A chorus drowned out the soft whisper and from every tree branch where a robin, a few blackbirds, a gang of sparrows and even a screeching seagull that was seemingly lost, a beautiful song sounded around me. 
The melodious tune, not even drowned by the piercing cry of the seagulls, flowed through the trees touching life so that the buds on the flowers opened and the leaves fluttered as if in dance.

Just as the sweet sounds seemed to swim over the still water, causing not even a ripple, the forest that was hiding under a dark shadow answered when the animals within had been awoken. 
A squirrel darted with incredible speed up a tall and leafless tree, decaying and withering with age and with a cry that sounded aggressive he warned the creatures not to come near his home.

As if a precious stone had touched the sun with its magnificent colors, a beautiful emerald green crept its way out from the hidden forest and towards where I had heard the whisper.
From somewhere and yet nowhere in particular, a baby red squirrel, a rare sight in these parts took its first steps towards the loving arms of its mother.
Reaching out for her heart, he embraced her love as he clung tight to the warmth of her fur.

The clouds assembled, and started to tell a story in the sky, which was a pastel blue only a few moments ago.
The wind, still calm, started to play with the fur on the squirrels back and only then did I come to glance upon a library made with clear glass.

Huge, although they should have been small, bonsai trees grew deep at the sides of the entrance.
A golden light danced its way over the grass and the smell of Brazilian coffee drifted and found its way in my nostrils.
I had a memory spring to my mind, of a time when in my dream, the library had shown in a different place under a towering block of ice.
Seated in the coffee room of the library that day, where the floor was made of yellow stone and sprinkled with chocolate dust, I had set my eyes outside where beyond, in the land of snow, there was a place of tranquility. 

The clouds had hang heavy with a darkening mass, and unleashed their heavy burdens before I had stared too long at the ugly sight.
The flowers knew they were going to die as soon as the snow unleashed its fury upon the earth. Ants died within seconds, and ducks came out to play like children upon the ice created on the pond.
The tranquility died, just as the flowers and the life too weak to fight on faded as if they had never had life.

That memory, of the winter that had never seemed to leave my dreams, was now gone, for a while. It was the dream of now, of spring, that had brought a new feeling of serenity.
Winter had been like a prison, trapping me inside its icy cages. Even if I had set myself free, would I have had the strength to live upon the bitterly cold ice and snow that stretched for miles and days?
Spring though was different. The ice, zapped away by the friendly heat of the sun, and I stepped out into a world of freedom, which was warm and beginning to burst with new life.

The whisper still emerging from somewhere down near the pond allured my soul and inspired me to find out where it was, and why.
As I glanced at the aging oak trees, I wondered if I could go beyond paradise within this dream.
Completely beyond and yet, would I still be able to paint the picture of this beyond with words that could bring the reader on the same journey.
That was when the daisies seemed to smile, and the sun offered them complete protection from death.

As I walked towards the whisper, of the home where it lived, or had begun, I came to realize that soon I would have with me something more special than anything this dream could give me. 
The whisper lured me on and I was heading towards the unknown.
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Enrique Salvador

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....Please Ms Kelly let me-stole- this....What a touch-
 
"The idea for making pictures out of text respawns every time someone sits down in front of a computer and turns a colon and parenthesis into a human emotion. 

:)

 No matter what technology people find in their hands, they will make something outside the boundaries of the economic relations that placed the machine and their flesh in contact. 

... Indeterminate symbols are a way to resist the increasing quantification and automation of the economy. Bending these machines of industry to something so frivolous asserts something like what used to be called the human spirit. 

And yet this resistance is small and inconsequential, a tiny, tweet-sized rebuke to the modern world. If there is no God, artyping is permitted."
People will make art with any technology.
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This is an excellent article. Thank you. 
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....Chichis cry..come on lite fur....Cats Rules always..THEY never ever lost their confidence-arrogance..??..HE thinks that HE could beat the big-pappa..jhajhajha.....I just Love the both of THEM.....Sweet shot my Cheerie...
 
let's play !!
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....wise and dangerous words...Maestro..Gabriel Garcia Marquez....El Amor..què es el..Amor..??....Como puedo darlo si no lo conozco..??.....by JOHN LENNON....
 ·  Translate
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Can u translate please
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....I ve read some where..▶ If you GO with a girl to her place ..and She doesn't have BOOKS....do not touch her ◀....Can we do that kids..??.....
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.....ahhh..that s what am talkin bout..jhajhajha..and precisely. .I was loking for the--Apples. ...strong shot kid....
 
Caption this
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..Exactly my Cheerie..
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....I will miss your tales-reality....you don't have to go.....
 
I am deleting my G Plus in a few days because it is slow and find it slow getting onto your posts so if any of you want to stay in touch via e mail then it is goldingsherry528@gmail.com to exchange photos, images of nature or places, animals, etc and possibly even meet in london for a weekend or for coffee, talk about stories or anything and become friends
sherry
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