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    12 April

    Tell me whom you love, And I will tell you who you are

       John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform,
       and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central
       Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he
       didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen
       months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he
       found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the
       notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a
       thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he
       discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time
       and effort he located her address. She now lived in New York City. He
       wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond.
       The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II.
       During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other
       through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A
       romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she
       refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she
       looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe,
       they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central
       Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red
       rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station
       looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never
       seen. I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was
       coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back
       in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her
       lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she
       was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely
       forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a
       small provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she
       murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and
       then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the
       girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn
       hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into
       low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
       I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow
       her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had
       truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale,
       plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and
       kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn
       blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This
       would not be love, but it would be something precious, something
       perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and
       must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out
       the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the
       bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and
       you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me. May I take
       you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I
       don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady
       in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on
       my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go
       and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across
       the street. She said it was some kind of test!" It's not difficult to
       understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom.
       The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the
       unattractive. "Tell me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "And I will
       tell you who you are."
    06 April

    Twilight

    最近在听Twilight的原声大碟,很有感觉,和电影很Match,推荐
     
     
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    24 Januar

    Music is the key

    For Tolstoy, love meant preferring others to oneself. That notion also sheds light on Bach, another of those who, in the deepest sense, entrusted their heart to love. He loved so fully, with all his being, in the most carnal, indeed incarnate way, that his self-effacement has caused us forever to perceive in that something resembling a revelation of life, something that explains his universality: it is as though Bach’s music were the awareness of music itself, its assurance and its promise. Perhaps no one –Shakespeare excepted – was comparably able to transform every atom in the universe, every particle of the world into such profound yet also intimate emotion. Bach is the composer who unites, in their truest sense, the plenary tenderness of prayer with the solitary echo of the divine. He grasps space and makes it an infinite curve; he takes time and makes it a possibility of the future; he seizes a dance and it becomes a betrothal to celebrate. For those of us who see so dimly, he restores a vision: the belief that with Bach there is no limit, that he enjoins us to rediscover that to the full, in this practice of love that has an obligation to the living to expand their lives, to restore love to the epicenter of their hearts.
    There is no longer any dispute over the urgency of our situation today. But one would be mistaken in regarding Bach as no more than a man of his time bearing witness to ours – because Bach is always in the process of becoming. Even in his own lifetime, he eluded his contemporaries who saw in him a relic of the past, not a prophet for all times and all people. What could then be more natural than to find him at the source of Liszt, Busoni or Rachmaninov? Bach was such an island in the middle of the river, free and unwavering in the midst of the currents and counter-currents, fed from the shore of the source and carried to the shore of hope. Between these two markers is a symbolic path which is the signature of all existence. Bach was not at all torn: he knew how to build bridges. He is always showing us, in a flash of transparent clarity, how to reconcile the pain in our days with the burst of light. (Hélène Grimaud)
    AlbumCover
     

     

    For me, one of the great things about solo Bach its portability: Bach goes everywhere with me. I play one or another of the sonatas and partitas in most of my recitals, and I use movements of Bach as encores in concerto performances. When I visit school classes or do pre-concert interviews or give benefit performances or play in retirement homes, I frequently play Bach. Somewhere in the sonatas and partitas, there is music that suits nearly every occasion, and audiences of all ages and background respond to it.
    Even before I began playing the violin, my parents were always playing tapes of the B Minor Mass or the cantatas at home, and the music grew on me. I remember my excitement when my early teacher, Klara Berkovich, told me I could play some solo Bach in my first recital. I also remember the feeling of revelation in a recital in Texas years later when, in the middle of playing the D Minor Partita, I suddenly heard for the first time exactly what was going on harmonically in the Ciaconna: it was one of the great insights of my life. Rehearsing and performing the Brandenburg Concertos with the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, playing the Bach Double Concerto with Jaime Laredo, playing Bach at the Avery Fisher Career Grants awards ceremony - it seems like I've been playing Bach all my life. (Hilary Hahn)

    HH

    Inspired by playing Bach, foreword from one pianist and one violinist. What do you feel via hearing Bach, go to the core of your heart, I think everyone has his/her answer and feeling, think about it.:-)

    28 Juli

    失败者的飞翔

    你知道吗听你说话
    我只需要听你说话
    在你的声音中安全的让我害怕
    这是一个快乐的警告警告我别想逃
    这个特别的时刻判断绝不会是你想要
    你的温柔包围我像个被人爱的傻瓜
    你的影子巨大像喧嚣的疯狂
    在一片欢乐的景象之中我却觉得勉强
    在离别的前夕找不忧伤的台阶下

    你承认吧你也想要体验一首慢的夸张的悲壮
    来不及为你歌唱你潇洒而昂扬
    在一片荒凉的景象之中我却觉得晴朗
    让我为你飞翔在你残破的天空之上
    让我为你飞翔在你残破的天空之上
    让我听你说话给我肩并肩的拥抱
    09 Dezember

    Where is there?

    8
     
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    22 November

    浮潜

    入手了新装备,准备体验一下海里鱼的生活,同样也要少喝几口海水
     
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    29 September

    je m’appelle hélène

    hélène
    je m’appelle hélène
    je suis une fille
    comme les autres
    hélène
    j’ai mes joies mes peines
    elles font ma vie
    comme la votre
    je voudrais trouver l’amour
    simplement trouver l’amour
    hélène
    si mes nuits sont pleines
    de rêves de poémesje n’ai rien d’autre
    et même
    si j’ai ma photo dans tous les journaux chaque semaine
    personne ne m’attend le soir
    quand je rentre tard
    personne ne fait battre mon coeur
    lorsque s’eteignent les projecteurs
    et même
    quand à la télè vous me regardez
    sourire et chanter
    personne ne m’attend le soir
    quand je rentre tard
    personne ne fait battre mon coeur
    lorsque s’eteignent les projecteurs
    hélène
    et toutes mes peines
    trouveront l’oubli un jour ou l’autre
    quand je trouverai l’amour
    quand je trouverai l’amour
    quand je trouverai l’amour
    quand je trouverai l’amour

    12 September

    一一

    一一, A One and a Two, 三个多小时, 很平凡的一些演员,很普通的一大家子,很琐碎的日常生活, 但却是很真实,这些故事每天在这个地球上不断上演,发生在你我的身边,你也许能从中找到自己的影子,不管你是年轻还是年老,只不过每个人的处理方式不同,就变成了你的故事,我的故事. C'est La vie. 很喜欢里面只有八岁的洋洋, 特别是他在婆婆的葬礼上对着婆婆说的话, "婆婆,我好想你。尤其是当我看到那个还没有名字的小表弟,就会想起你常跟我说:你老了。我很想跟他说,我觉得……我也老了."  看着洋洋,让我想起了我小时候的一些故事,同样的葬礼,差不多的年纪...
    音乐舒缓的在身边流过,三个多小时一转眼就在指间流过,让人觉得很舒服,贴近生活的才是最能打动人心的,上次看这么长的片子好像是2001太空漫游,不过好像那次我睡着了...
     
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    29 August

    Time flies

    翻看日历发觉日子已经到了八月的尾声了, 记得小的时候到了这段时间总是闷闷不乐的,因为夏天即将结束了,吃冷饮的机会越来越少了,而且马上要回到学校上课了. 而现在, 全球气候变暖了,夏天也要到十月才能结束了, 吃冷饮更不是问题, 每天要去的地方从学校变成了公司. 但同样心情依然有点郁闷,就像这天气一样,闷闷的, 也许是最近不幸运的事情接二连三的发生,或者是在股票牛市的过山车上坐了太久,有点晕眩了. 也许是时候停下来稍作修整了, 休息和思考能够让我看的更清楚, 前方的路漫漫, 沿途美好的风景不应该错过呀. 希望九月的project做完后能够去度个假期,然后当然就是秋天收获的季节,不知道今年的收成怎么样.  期待着能够有个大丰收
    01 Juli

    More about 红叉叉

    If you want to see my flickr pictures from this msn space, please review below solution
    http://www.chedong.com/blog/archives/001355.html
    11 Juni

    关于下面的红叉叉

    Can't see any images

    Since around 12:30pm (Beijing time) on June 7th, users in China have been unable to view images on flickr.com.

    Our technical staff have looked into this and determined that it's not a technical issue from our end. Evidence suggests that our image servers are being blocked for many users in China.

    We are checking periodically to see if the block is still in place, but haven't detected any change. We hope that this is a temporary issue and we currently believe that it will be. In the meantime, we are investigating our alternatives. Thanks for your patience.

    As Stewart stated earlier,

    "Unfortuantely, the firewall's administrators don't provide contact details, so we can't just call up someone who makes decisions about which sites are blocked and plead our cases. All we can do at this point is continue to monitor, seek advice from colleagues closer to the region and/or with more experience.

    We definitely haven't forgotten about you, but there is not much for us to announce publicly at this point. As soon as anything changes, will let you know. And we're all rooting for you!"

    Access to earlier forum topics on this subject now seem inaccessible for some China-based users, so I'm adding this as a locked topic so that we can at least keep you updated.

    From http://www.flickr.com/help/forum/41998/

    02 Juni

    Delusion Angel

    Daydream delusion
    Limousine Eyelash
    Oh baby with your pretty face
    Drop a tear in my wineglass
    Look at those big eyes
    See what you mean to me
    Sweet-cakes and milkshakes
    I'm a delusion angel
    I'm a fantasy parade
    I want you to know what I think
    Don't want you to guess anymore
    You have no idea where I came from
    We have no idea where we're going
    Lodged in life
    Like branches in a river
    Flowing downstream
    Caught in the current
    I carry you
    You'll carry me
    That's how it could be
    Don't you know me?
    Don't you know me by now?

    This is the poem by David Jewell written for Before Sunrise,  It's really beautiful, I like it and also the film, share with you