I've heard it said
We're made of clay,
In God's great plan
What better way
For mothers like my very own
To mold and shape-
For she alone
With artistic vend,
Partakes a task without end.
Her hands and heart are never still,
she plays the clay against the will,
And blends and tints with rosy hue,
Resulting in the me and you.
This she does for many years,
The clay is moist with mother's tears.
Then each grandchild becomes an heir
Its busy hands ever there
Again to shape with rosy hue,
My mother starts her task anew.
Published
Saturday, April 25, 2009
My Friend
The soul-like light
That makes you shine,
And stand apart, oh friend of mine,
Goes not unoticed.
I can only bless the day
The paths we traveled did convey
A kindred feeling we could share,
Finding love and laughter everywhere.
Comparing things like recipes.
Or children's happenings that please-
Happy time we often share-
Yet when I'm blue, you're always there.
©2003 Christy Schaller
That makes you shine,
And stand apart, oh friend of mine,
Goes not unoticed.
I can only bless the day
The paths we traveled did convey
A kindred feeling we could share,
Finding love and laughter everywhere.
Comparing things like recipes.
Or children's happenings that please-
Happy time we often share-
Yet when I'm blue, you're always there.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Warning-Anger!
Don't probe too deep,
Or you'll wake from its sleep
A giant!
A grotesque thing
Held in check by a string,
Termed by mast
An emotional triumph.
One day words awoke
Tho a soul groaned and spoke-
Not loud enough to forestall disaster.
A warning ignored-
Oh Lord, Oh Lord,
Shut my ears from its hideous laughter.
As screaming and flaying
The thing broke free,
In its birth left a shell-
It was me!
Dripping with anguish
Utter dispair!
Where was reason?
Only I was there.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Or you'll wake from its sleep
A giant!
A grotesque thing
Held in check by a string,
Termed by mast
An emotional triumph.
One day words awoke
Tho a soul groaned and spoke-
Not loud enough to forestall disaster.
A warning ignored-
Oh Lord, Oh Lord,
Shut my ears from its hideous laughter.
As screaming and flaying
The thing broke free,
In its birth left a shell-
It was me!
Dripping with anguish
Utter dispair!
Where was reason?
Only I was there.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Fools They
The sun was high
And love was new,
But youth is stupid
Their quarrel was too.
The noonday sun
Was warm and gay
As two people
Battled life away.
The evening seen
Showed each stubborn head
White and deiant
As the years sped.
At long last
The sunfinally set,
On two lovers-
Who never should have met.
©2003 Christy Schaller
And love was new,
But youth is stupid
Their quarrel was too.
The noonday sun
Was warm and gay
As two people
Battled life away.
The evening seen
Showed each stubborn head
White and deiant
As the years sped.
At long last
The sunfinally set,
On two lovers-
Who never should have met.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Friday, April 24, 2009
Not One Thing
Perhaps the hour
God made the flowers,
The birds began to sing
For every man or bird or beast
Life is not one thing.
Perhaps the day
You went away,
Winds and earthquakes
Took their toll.
I cannot imagine
How your going,
Could shake
Just one human soul.
©2003 Christy Schaller
God made the flowers,
The birds began to sing
For every man or bird or beast
Life is not one thing.
Perhaps the day
You went away,
Winds and earthquakes
Took their toll.
I cannot imagine
How your going,
Could shake
Just one human soul.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Parting
Your voice no longer holds a caresss,
Your manner no longer spells tenderness
Mistakes made together no longer are shared.
They're "your fault" or "my fault"
No words have been spared.
What have we now but lives alone?
A flesh that is ill-
A heart that is stone.
Published
Your manner no longer spells tenderness
Mistakes made together no longer are shared.
They're "your fault" or "my fault"
No words have been spared.
What have we now but lives alone?
A flesh that is ill-
A heart that is stone.
Published
Silent Sounds
The sound of a breaking heart
Is like no sound ever heard,
An inward whispered agony-
No moan, no cry, no word....
©2003 Christy Schaller
Is like no sound ever heard,
An inward whispered agony-
No moan, no cry, no word....
©2003 Christy Schaller
Contagion
I've tried to help you, my dear friend,
Delved into my feelings, tried to pretend
Myself in the same situation.
Now I have the grim sensation
Of getting the blues-
Please turn about,
Return the advice so freely given out.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Delved into my feelings, tried to pretend
Myself in the same situation.
Now I have the grim sensation
Of getting the blues-
Please turn about,
Return the advice so freely given out.
©2003 Christy Schaller
I Meant To
My life's been full of meant tos-
Some were good and some bad
I've meant to write letters-
Some I wish I never had.
The bills I meant to pay
Are often over due
The little "thank yous" that I owe
Fall by the wayside too.
The friends I meant to call on
So often move away,
And if you can believe it,
This is another "meant to" day!
Published
Some were good and some bad
I've meant to write letters-
Some I wish I never had.
The bills I meant to pay
Are often over due
The little "thank yous" that I owe
Fall by the wayside too.
The friends I meant to call on
So often move away,
And if you can believe it,
This is another "meant to" day!
Published
Turbulense
The earth shook with indecision,
The winds confused the tide,
The sun shone dark and objects dimmed,
The soul was thus inside.
Suddenly, as if the world stood still,
Its equilibrium to regain,
The winds controlled their wildest will,
The sun became a flame.
"Peace", the breezes whispered,
Its breath subdued the sea.
Turbulance resolved to order,
The soul sighed quietly.
©2003 Christy Schaller
The winds confused the tide,
The sun shone dark and objects dimmed,
The soul was thus inside.
Suddenly, as if the world stood still,
Its equilibrium to regain,
The winds controlled their wildest will,
The sun became a flame.
"Peace", the breezes whispered,
Its breath subdued the sea.
Turbulance resolved to order,
The soul sighed quietly.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Not Enough
One cannot live by man alone
His soul does shrink and die
For want of spiritual food,
And blessings of Him on high.
The inner man, though God endowed
Oh wretched soul he be
Who dims the God-like light, for lo-
A self alone is he.
God's voice is gentle, but most firm
Man rebuked is sad to see,
Time is not man's, but God's alone
For now and all eternity.
©2003 Christy Schaller
His soul does shrink and die
For want of spiritual food,
And blessings of Him on high.
The inner man, though God endowed
Oh wretched soul he be
Who dims the God-like light, for lo-
A self alone is he.
God's voice is gentle, but most firm
Man rebuked is sad to see,
Time is not man's, but God's alone
For now and all eternity.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Food for the Soul
Candles and silver
Linen and wine-
Things which make
A life most fine.
Served on a barrel
Or an exquisite lace
Is just a matter
Of personal taste.
Or-is it the pocketbook
Determining the score?
Then give me just one of these,
I'll ask no more.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Linen and wine-
Things which make
A life most fine.
Served on a barrel
Or an exquisite lace
Is just a matter
Of personal taste.
Or-is it the pocketbook
Determining the score?
Then give me just one of these,
I'll ask no more.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Soul Music
The rugged real is hard to flee,
But music soft soothes such as we.
A scented pine, a trill of birds
Can set our world more right than words
And though fulfillment is our aim,
It must unfold sometimes with pain.
Published
But music soft soothes such as we.
A scented pine, a trill of birds
Can set our world more right than words
And though fulfillment is our aim,
It must unfold sometimes with pain.
Published
"Forgive Them"
God looked at His vast oceans,
And all He could behold
Were ships and planes with bombs and guns,
And men whose hearts were cold.
God searched His great lands
And much that He did find
Was lust and greed and death,
And loved ones left behind.
God shook His head in anguish,
And heard the words anew,
"Forgive them God, my Father,
They know not what they do."
Nation wide contest-First prize winner
Published in Antholoty
First Prize $25.
Christy Schaller
414 S. Landfair Apt. 5
Los Angeles 24, Cal.
FORGIVE THEM
And all He could behold
Were ships and planes with bombs and guns,
And men whose hearts were cold.
God searched His great lands
And much that He did find
Was lust and greed and death,
And loved ones left behind.
God shook His head in anguish,
And heard the words anew,
"Forgive them God, my Father,
They know not what they do."
Nation wide contest-First prize winner
Published in Antholoty
First Prize $25.
Christy Schaller
414 S. Landfair Apt. 5
Los Angeles 24, Cal.
FORGIVE THEM
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Peace
How can I write of peace
When all I know is war?
How can I describe a feeling
I've never felt before?
Ask me about a prayer,
Or a yearning, if you will,
Ask about sweet silence
When all the guns are stilled.
Walk with me across
An unblemished green expanse
Unmarred by bombs and dying men,
A place where freedoms cance.
Where hearts and hands of all are joined,
And apathy is nil,
Where men behave with dignity,
And hate is ever still.
These are the thoughts,
Though buried deep,
Which live in the hearts
Of all who seek--
Peace
When all I know is war?
How can I describe a feeling
I've never felt before?
Ask me about a prayer,
Or a yearning, if you will,
Ask about sweet silence
When all the guns are stilled.
Walk with me across
An unblemished green expanse
Unmarred by bombs and dying men,
A place where freedoms cance.
Where hearts and hands of all are joined,
And apathy is nil,
Where men behave with dignity,
And hate is ever still.
These are the thoughts,
Though buried deep,
Which live in the hearts
Of all who seek--
Peace
Rest
The weight of the day
Like your own in a pool,
Suddenly melts, as the night grows cool.
The wind brushes your cheek,
Stars in the air
Float softly earthward,
Their beauty to share.
Thoughts fall away-
Adding to rest,
The earth holds her own,
Creation is blessed.
Published
Like your own in a pool,
Suddenly melts, as the night grows cool.
The wind brushes your cheek,
Stars in the air
Float softly earthward,
Their beauty to share.
Thoughts fall away-
Adding to rest,
The earth holds her own,
Creation is blessed.
Published
A Sonnet In Space
I dreamed a dream above dispair,
My thoughts went cruising way up there
In outer space.
Once in orbit, they whirled so fast
I felt their movement rushing past,
No longer seeming part of me,
From weight and worry I was free.
No cheering crowd watched their pace,
Nor was there an appointed time or place.
Where raft, ship or even plane
Would save them from the stinging pain
Of reality.
I alone, awaited their descent,
A reunion most diffident.
Published
My thoughts went cruising way up there
In outer space.
Once in orbit, they whirled so fast
I felt their movement rushing past,
No longer seeming part of me,
From weight and worry I was free.
No cheering crowd watched their pace,
Nor was there an appointed time or place.
Where raft, ship or even plane
Would save them from the stinging pain
Of reality.
I alone, awaited their descent,
A reunion most diffident.
Published
Bird In Flight
To soar and glide
And sweep aside
With strong white wings,
All earthly things.
To breath the air
So clean and new,
And with clear eyes
The beauty view.
To feel the color
Of coming spring,
To own a heart
That wants to sing.
To know pure joy
And have no bound,
To live aloft
In freedom found.
Published
And sweep aside
With strong white wings,
All earthly things.
To breath the air
So clean and new,
And with clear eyes
The beauty view.
To feel the color
Of coming spring,
To own a heart
That wants to sing.
To know pure joy
And have no bound,
To live aloft
In freedom found.
Published
The Rose and the Tear
Glistening on the rose,
Was the morning dew so clear,
But as I touched the petals
It fell, as does a tear.
The rose looked at me repoachfully
As if she were not mine,
I had robbed her of her moment
Of closeness with the divine.
My mood went on undaunted,
The morning's happinesss was near,
My eager hands reached to hold it,
It trembled, as the tear.
Give each glad thing its freedom,
The beauty of that hour
Will be God's greatest gift,
As the dew to the flower.
Published in Anthology
Was the morning dew so clear,
But as I touched the petals
It fell, as does a tear.
The rose looked at me repoachfully
As if she were not mine,
I had robbed her of her moment
Of closeness with the divine.
My mood went on undaunted,
The morning's happinesss was near,
My eager hands reached to hold it,
It trembled, as the tear.
Give each glad thing its freedom,
The beauty of that hour
Will be God's greatest gift,
As the dew to the flower.
Published in Anthology
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Mountain
I lie serene in the morning sun
Multi-colored as Joseph's coat,
With as many moods and seams
To some, I am majestic
Deep in thought and tone.
To others, I have shown my colors
Pitting my strength agains their own,
Revealing my weakness
As men too grow faint.
Be wary, oh stranger, of sleeping dangers
Disguised as tranquility.
Though I often give-to compensate I take.
As wintry blasts infuriate
So do the struggles of little men.
Exhausted and prone I lie-
In the promise of spring.
Men believe me-
I lie waiting, majestic
And marvel at their daring.
Published
Multi-colored as Joseph's coat,
With as many moods and seams
To some, I am majestic
Deep in thought and tone.
To others, I have shown my colors
Pitting my strength agains their own,
Revealing my weakness
As men too grow faint.
Be wary, oh stranger, of sleeping dangers
Disguised as tranquility.
Though I often give-to compensate I take.
As wintry blasts infuriate
So do the struggles of little men.
Exhausted and prone I lie-
In the promise of spring.
Men believe me-
I lie waiting, majestic
And marvel at their daring.
Published
Depth
The waves alive, beyond control
Like the feelings of a mortal soul
Swell and break!
Emotion spent,
Repent--
Sigh, and rejoin the sea
To fulfill their destiny.
The spray that bursts upon the rock
As inner man,
Desires the shock
Of release!
Momentarily, wild and free
Defying the beckoning sea,
Yet knowing strength it must regain
It falls into the sea again.
Dare we say the sea has failed
Its stability assailed
Because from depth it swells to break
Causing turbulence in its wake
To free the spray?
Men choose action like the sea
Rise and fall with dignity,
And as the spray upon the shore,
Regain capacity once more.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Like the feelings of a mortal soul
Swell and break!
Emotion spent,
Repent--
Sigh, and rejoin the sea
To fulfill their destiny.
The spray that bursts upon the rock
As inner man,
Desires the shock
Of release!
Momentarily, wild and free
Defying the beckoning sea,
Yet knowing strength it must regain
It falls into the sea again.
Dare we say the sea has failed
Its stability assailed
Because from depth it swells to break
Causing turbulence in its wake
To free the spray?
Men choose action like the sea
Rise and fall with dignity,
And as the spray upon the shore,
Regain capacity once more.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Mood Music
A mood most whimsical
Danced through the room,
Though strangely it cast
A shadow of gloom.
Its movements were graceful
Its gestures though quick
Were mocked by its shadow,
The mood had been tricked.
Its freedom most gleeful
Was held by desire,
The mood in all truth
Its shadow inspired.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Danced through the room,
Though strangely it cast
A shadow of gloom.
Its movements were graceful
Its gestures though quick
Were mocked by its shadow,
The mood had been tricked.
Its freedom most gleeful
Was held by desire,
The mood in all truth
Its shadow inspired.
©2003 Christy Schaller
Day Dreams
Feathers drifting aimlessly,
Light as the breeze
Which whips them skyward.
Wanderers each, undirected,
Free, soaring, undetected.
Published
Light as the breeze
Which whips them skyward.
Wanderers each, undirected,
Free, soaring, undetected.
Published
A Poet Explained
A poet is a man
With his feet on the ground,
His eyes ever searching
For the beauty around.
His hands always busy,
He works with the crowd,
But if you look closely,
His head's in a cloud.
He hears you-but listens
To things you don't hear,
Those sounds he transposes
For some sensitive ear.
A poet is a man
Who is never alone,
The earth, sky and beauty
Are truly his own.
Published
With his feet on the ground,
His eyes ever searching
For the beauty around.
His hands always busy,
He works with the crowd,
But if you look closely,
His head's in a cloud.
He hears you-but listens
To things you don't hear,
Those sounds he transposes
For some sensitive ear.
A poet is a man
Who is never alone,
The earth, sky and beauty
Are truly his own.
Published
Fantasy
Live a life of fantasy,
Pretend things are as you hoped they'd be
Take in your hands what life can give,
Be ever grateful that you can live.
Roam if you will, in imaginative air,
Thoughts to keep or yours to share
These dreams which no man can see
Allows you from the real to flee.
Yet somewhere in the inbetween,
A thought no longer is a dream
Fantasy forms a thing of worth,
Becoming a lasting part of earth.
Published
Pretend things are as you hoped they'd be
Take in your hands what life can give,
Be ever grateful that you can live.
Roam if you will, in imaginative air,
Thoughts to keep or yours to share
These dreams which no man can see
Allows you from the real to flee.
Yet somewhere in the inbetween,
A thought no longer is a dream
Fantasy forms a thing of worth,
Becoming a lasting part of earth.
Published
Monday, April 20, 2009
Christy Schaller 1914-2007
Christy Schaller was born 1914 in the state of Iowa.
She loved to travel. She started traveling to California when she was a teenager with her parents. She then traveled to southern Illinois. To Canada, Arizona and then to Oregon, Nevada and Utah. As her children grew and they settled in those states. Finally she traveled to her dream place, Hawaii.
She owned several houses in her life time. Also a mountain cabin, a mobile home in Malibu, California and a mobile home in Ashland, Oregon.
She was trained as an x-ray technician as a young woman by a local dentist in the small town where she grew up. Sioux City, Iowa. She was irradiated by an x-ray machine, a new one that her doctor, Dr. Bidwell, bought her in 1963. The worker at the factory forgot to put the lead lining in the cone of the machine. This changed her life. She lost both self-esteem and earning ability. She also suffered one of many bouts of depression that she often suffered throughout her lifetime.
When I was nine, she owned a German Import Shop in Scottsdale, Arizona. In the 70's she began to sculpt candle houses shaped like the architecture in Solvang, California and Carmel, California. She did too well with her business, and needed employees. I don't believe that she could figure out the tax laws. She finally grew too weak in her old age to work the clay.
She had a high level of emotional intelligence and two years of college. I spent one summer with my grandmother who told me how my mom, when she was little, would feel so sorry for anyone and anything, be it human or animal, when she saw it suffer. My grandmother absolutely loved my mother.
Mom was a very hospitable person. She loved to visit and get to know people.
She was married four times and would always proudly declare that she had divorced them all.
They were intelligent and professional men.
About 1960 she took a female partner, Mary Jo Clements. Mary Jo was highly educated. The Associate Editor of 'Teen' Magazine. She wrote 'The Young Actors Guide to Hollywood.' She would often be a judge for Miss Teenage America. She had been raised in Texas and Oklahoma. A distant relative of Samual Clements/Mark Twain. Her father had been a Doctor and she spoke with a wonderful southern accent, which I loved to copy. She wore make-up. Mom and I didn't wear make-up. Mom wore lipstick and perfume and I was ten years old. But I thought that Mary Jo was fascinating when she would apply her make-up, which she did every morning before work in the long mirror that hung on the door in the hallway downstairs. Foundation, powder, eyebrow pencil, mascara, blush and finally lipstick (applied with brush) two shades and then gloss. She also did cartwheels, handstands and headstands on the front lawn. I could watch that endlessly. Gymnastics just were not something that a girl should do, in my mother's estimation. I would never have been allowed to do gymnastics.
Our relationship was very formal. She had never had children, much less a man. When we had a conversation is was more like an interview that she was conducting for a magazine. I didn't like her or dislike her. I thought of her as my mom's friend. I thought that their conversation was boring and never wanted to be with them when they were together. She left on the weekends to spend time with her mother and a brother, who was an architect. I wished I could share a room with my mom and I missed my dad and always fought with my brother. Mary Jo died in 1969 while I was living with my dad and I felt no loss at her death.
At age 9 I realized that mom liked to write. She was working on a book about her life in southern Illinois. And when I was thirteen and we were living in Malibu, California, I was aware that she sent her poetry to magazines and got $25. checks for them. At this time she taught me to write poetry and we had a lot of fun sending off our poems and reading reject letters to each other and saving them. I said to her once after I had grown up, "Why don't you write a book about your life?" And she said, "Everyone would get mad at me!"
She kind of drifted around, after I left home, until she seemed to find her 'niche' in Carmel, California. Everyone in town knew her-she was comfortable with the beauty and the wealth there. She had lots of friends, they were 'her' kind of people. And I wish for her that she was still walking around the streets of Carmel today.
Sarah Chang, Massenet - Meditation from Thais
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August 12, 2007
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Sarah Chang: Violin Placido Domingo: Conductor Berliner Philharmoniker
Sarah Chang: Violin
Placido Domingo: Conductor
Berliner Philharmoniker
Category: Music
Tags: Sarah Chang Massenet Meditation from Thais Violin Placido Domingo Berliner Philharmoniker URL
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sivery70914 (15 hours ago) Show Hide 0 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Beautiful femine song from her heart.
regalo1979 (3 days ago) Show Hide +4 Marked as spam Reply | Spam wunderbar!
msumuel (4 days ago) Show Hide +4 Marked as spam Reply | Spam 4:35-4:55, my favorite moment of the entire Meditation. The P4 from the C# up to the F#(or whatever it is depending on key) gets me everytime.
EscargoTouChaud (6 days ago) Show Hide +7 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Memories from a small and discrete church concert in Paris winter 2007. Hurtfully beautiful, if such a word exists.
shadowzrike (6 days ago) Show Hide +7 Marked as spam Reply | Spam GREAT!!!! No wonder the audience was so excited at the beginning
sagievy (6 days ago) Show Hide +6 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Beautiful !!!!
dhiemart32 (6 days ago) Show Hide +7 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Excelent, thank you for posting this beautiful video.
clevony (1 week ago) Show Hide +8 Marked as spam Reply | Spam absolutely beautiful
ZuaGweisslter (1 week ago) Show Hide +6 Marked as spam Reply | Spam When you hear it, it is like a moment of luck. Each time I hear it i get a goosebump
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She loved to travel. She started traveling to California when she was a teenager with her parents. She then traveled to southern Illinois. To Canada, Arizona and then to Oregon, Nevada and Utah. As her children grew and they settled in those states. Finally she traveled to her dream place, Hawaii.
She owned several houses in her life time. Also a mountain cabin, a mobile home in Malibu, California and a mobile home in Ashland, Oregon.
She was trained as an x-ray technician as a young woman by a local dentist in the small town where she grew up. Sioux City, Iowa. She was irradiated by an x-ray machine, a new one that her doctor, Dr. Bidwell, bought her in 1963. The worker at the factory forgot to put the lead lining in the cone of the machine. This changed her life. She lost both self-esteem and earning ability. She also suffered one of many bouts of depression that she often suffered throughout her lifetime.
When I was nine, she owned a German Import Shop in Scottsdale, Arizona. In the 70's she began to sculpt candle houses shaped like the architecture in Solvang, California and Carmel, California. She did too well with her business, and needed employees. I don't believe that she could figure out the tax laws. She finally grew too weak in her old age to work the clay.
She had a high level of emotional intelligence and two years of college. I spent one summer with my grandmother who told me how my mom, when she was little, would feel so sorry for anyone and anything, be it human or animal, when she saw it suffer. My grandmother absolutely loved my mother.
Mom was a very hospitable person. She loved to visit and get to know people.
She was married four times and would always proudly declare that she had divorced them all.
They were intelligent and professional men.
About 1960 she took a female partner, Mary Jo Clements. Mary Jo was highly educated. The Associate Editor of 'Teen' Magazine. She wrote 'The Young Actors Guide to Hollywood.' She would often be a judge for Miss Teenage America. She had been raised in Texas and Oklahoma. A distant relative of Samual Clements/Mark Twain. Her father had been a Doctor and she spoke with a wonderful southern accent, which I loved to copy. She wore make-up. Mom and I didn't wear make-up. Mom wore lipstick and perfume and I was ten years old. But I thought that Mary Jo was fascinating when she would apply her make-up, which she did every morning before work in the long mirror that hung on the door in the hallway downstairs. Foundation, powder, eyebrow pencil, mascara, blush and finally lipstick (applied with brush) two shades and then gloss. She also did cartwheels, handstands and headstands on the front lawn. I could watch that endlessly. Gymnastics just were not something that a girl should do, in my mother's estimation. I would never have been allowed to do gymnastics.
Our relationship was very formal. She had never had children, much less a man. When we had a conversation is was more like an interview that she was conducting for a magazine. I didn't like her or dislike her. I thought of her as my mom's friend. I thought that their conversation was boring and never wanted to be with them when they were together. She left on the weekends to spend time with her mother and a brother, who was an architect. I wished I could share a room with my mom and I missed my dad and always fought with my brother. Mary Jo died in 1969 while I was living with my dad and I felt no loss at her death.
At age 9 I realized that mom liked to write. She was working on a book about her life in southern Illinois. And when I was thirteen and we were living in Malibu, California, I was aware that she sent her poetry to magazines and got $25. checks for them. At this time she taught me to write poetry and we had a lot of fun sending off our poems and reading reject letters to each other and saving them. I said to her once after I had grown up, "Why don't you write a book about your life?" And she said, "Everyone would get mad at me!"
She kind of drifted around, after I left home, until she seemed to find her 'niche' in Carmel, California. Everyone in town knew her-she was comfortable with the beauty and the wealth there. She had lots of friends, they were 'her' kind of people. And I wish for her that she was still walking around the streets of Carmel today.
Sarah Chang, Massenet - Meditation from Thais
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August 12, 2007
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Sarah Chang: Violin Placido Domingo: Conductor Berliner Philharmoniker
Sarah Chang: Violin
Placido Domingo: Conductor
Berliner Philharmoniker
Category: Music
Tags: Sarah Chang Massenet Meditation from Thais Violin Placido Domingo Berliner Philharmoniker URL
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sivery70914 (15 hours ago) Show Hide 0 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Beautiful femine song from her heart.
regalo1979 (3 days ago) Show Hide +4 Marked as spam Reply | Spam wunderbar!
msumuel (4 days ago) Show Hide +4 Marked as spam Reply | Spam 4:35-4:55, my favorite moment of the entire Meditation. The P4 from the C# up to the F#(or whatever it is depending on key) gets me everytime.
EscargoTouChaud (6 days ago) Show Hide +7 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Memories from a small and discrete church concert in Paris winter 2007. Hurtfully beautiful, if such a word exists.
shadowzrike (6 days ago) Show Hide +7 Marked as spam Reply | Spam GREAT!!!! No wonder the audience was so excited at the beginning
sagievy (6 days ago) Show Hide +6 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Beautiful !!!!
dhiemart32 (6 days ago) Show Hide +7 Marked as spam Reply | Spam Excelent, thank you for posting this beautiful video.
clevony (1 week ago) Show Hide +8 Marked as spam Reply | Spam absolutely beautiful
ZuaGweisslter (1 week ago) Show Hide +6 Marked as spam Reply | Spam When you hear it, it is like a moment of luck. Each time I hear it i get a goosebump
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Try YouTube in a new web browser!Download Google Chrome Search YouTube Programs Help Legal Discover
Contact Us Advertising Help Resources Privacy Policy YouTube on Your Phone
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Press Room Partnerships Community Help Forums Copyright Notices YouTube on Your TV
Business Blog Content Management Safety Center Community Guidelines YouTube RSS Feeds
YouTube Blog TestTube
Add YouTube to your Google homepage
© 2009 YouTube, LLC
Sunday, April 19, 2009
STAR CHILDREN
A little star
Up in the sky
Looked down at the sea
From his home on high.
What he thought he saw
Was a star in the sea,
"Oh mother," he called,
"There's another me."
His mother smiled gently
And tried to explain,
"A star in the sea is not the same.
You are an Astronaut, my son,
You float in the air to have your fun.
Your friend in the sea
Swimming is taught,
He might be called an Aquanaut.
His friends are the fish
And plants of the sea.
Your friends are the planets
And stars such as we.
He floats and swims
And he plays in the sun,
While you prefer to shine
When the day is done."
The little star sighed
And wished hard as could be,
He too could swim
And live in the sea.
"I'll do it, I'll do it!"
He cried aloud,
As he floated earthward
On the back of a cloud.
He was suddenly wet,
As wet as could be,
As the cloud was raining
Right into the sea.
His head really hurt,
As he twirled round and round.
He fell into the sea
With a splashing sound.
He sputtered and splashed
As he came up for air,
He felt himself all over,
To see if his points were still there.
His body was round!
As smooth as could be-
"What in the world is the matter?
Oh look at me!
I don't feel good, I need more air!
Why didn't I stay home
While I was there?"
Suddenly he floated
Right to the top.
His breathing ws easy,His struggling stopped.
The moon gliding by
Watching his plight
Called down from abouve,
"I'll see you tonight."
The Aquanaut Star,
(A starfish from the sea)
Came to the surface
Wondering what the commotion could be.
"I'm a sky star," explained little Astronaut.
But my points were all broken,
When I couldn't stop."
"Your points are not broken,"
Spoke the moon on high.
"They will sparkle and shine
Once you're back in the sky."
Starfish laughed and shouted with glee,
"I want you to know some friends
Who know me-"
"They are beautiful people
'Neath coral and rock,
Some are swimming under the dock."
The Astronaut Star
(The star from the sky)
Couldn't believe what he saw
As time went by.
A lovely flower, called Anemone,
A Sea Cucumber, as fat as could be,
A seahorse so tiny, a Seal, so big,
A Sand Dollar, an Eel,
Which looked like a twig.
"Do you have a Big Dipper?
Where is your Milky Way?
Do you sleep all night?
Where do you stay?"
The Aquanaut Star,
The star of the sea,
Answered best he could,
Until presently, his mother
Who was listening, floated by
And explained to the little star of the sky,
"The one thing shared is the moon,
Which causes the tides in the sea.
And all living things-both large and small
Need sky, sea, land and air
To live at all.
The sky star was pleased
At all he heard,
And listened intently
To every word.
As he lilstened he noticed
That night time was near.
He wanted to go home
To his mother most dear.
But--how to fall up?
Oh, what to do?
The moon was up high
And the cloud there too.
Then he remembered a poem
He often had heard.
"Wish upon a star."
He remembered each word.
He wished on a star
With all his might-
Suddenly he felt
His body so light,
Being lifted up quickly
Above to the sky.
Big Dipper was holding him
Sparkling and dry.
The moon winked and nodded
As his points shone so clear.
"Oh Mother," he called,
"Mother, I'm here!"
©2003 Christy Schaller
Up in the sky
Looked down at the sea
From his home on high.
What he thought he saw
Was a star in the sea,
"Oh mother," he called,
"There's another me."
His mother smiled gently
And tried to explain,
"A star in the sea is not the same.
You are an Astronaut, my son,
You float in the air to have your fun.
Your friend in the sea
Swimming is taught,
He might be called an Aquanaut.
His friends are the fish
And plants of the sea.
Your friends are the planets
And stars such as we.
He floats and swims
And he plays in the sun,
While you prefer to shine
When the day is done."
The little star sighed
And wished hard as could be,
He too could swim
And live in the sea.
"I'll do it, I'll do it!"
He cried aloud,
As he floated earthward
On the back of a cloud.
He was suddenly wet,
As wet as could be,
As the cloud was raining
Right into the sea.
His head really hurt,
As he twirled round and round.
He fell into the sea
With a splashing sound.
He sputtered and splashed
As he came up for air,
He felt himself all over,
To see if his points were still there.
His body was round!
As smooth as could be-
"What in the world is the matter?
Oh look at me!
I don't feel good, I need more air!
Why didn't I stay home
While I was there?"
Suddenly he floated
Right to the top.
His breathing ws easy,His struggling stopped.
The moon gliding by
Watching his plight
Called down from abouve,
"I'll see you tonight."
The Aquanaut Star,
(A starfish from the sea)
Came to the surface
Wondering what the commotion could be.
"I'm a sky star," explained little Astronaut.
But my points were all broken,
When I couldn't stop."
"Your points are not broken,"
Spoke the moon on high.
"They will sparkle and shine
Once you're back in the sky."
Starfish laughed and shouted with glee,
"I want you to know some friends
Who know me-"
"They are beautiful people
'Neath coral and rock,
Some are swimming under the dock."
The Astronaut Star
(The star from the sky)
Couldn't believe what he saw
As time went by.
A lovely flower, called Anemone,
A Sea Cucumber, as fat as could be,
A seahorse so tiny, a Seal, so big,
A Sand Dollar, an Eel,
Which looked like a twig.
"Do you have a Big Dipper?
Where is your Milky Way?
Do you sleep all night?
Where do you stay?"
The Aquanaut Star,
The star of the sea,
Answered best he could,
Until presently, his mother
Who was listening, floated by
And explained to the little star of the sky,
"The one thing shared is the moon,
Which causes the tides in the sea.
And all living things-both large and small
Need sky, sea, land and air
To live at all.
The sky star was pleased
At all he heard,
And listened intently
To every word.
As he lilstened he noticed
That night time was near.
He wanted to go home
To his mother most dear.
But--how to fall up?
Oh, what to do?
The moon was up high
And the cloud there too.
Then he remembered a poem
He often had heard.
"Wish upon a star."
He remembered each word.
He wished on a star
With all his might-
Suddenly he felt
His body so light,
Being lifted up quickly
Above to the sky.
Big Dipper was holding him
Sparkling and dry.
The moon winked and nodded
As his points shone so clear.
"Oh Mother," he called,
"Mother, I'm here!"
©2003 Christy Schaller
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