Lonely Angel After Meditation For Violin And String Orchestra Peteris Vasks

I have no occupation. But were I a painter, I would on my palette drip a mass of the purest red, and at the other rim, one of black. With the widest brush I'd stroke them together, then swirl and swirl until nothing of either color remained, but something palpably strange emerged for all eyes to see, that see things truly - for what they are. This would I do in the clearest light of day, before shadows lengthened in the afternoon. And then I would cover a perfect canvas with that color, alone, nothing else, no shape, no figure, only the abstract of my new color. And should you ask, what does it mean? I would answer, that question has no relevance to me, to you, or our wide circle. But of what it does, take heed. It tells you to STOP - because a huge bloodshot cyclopean EYE from its blind depths sees you whole and stares you down... There are many corners in this vast world which will never be illuminated. Light has no access to their dark interiors, and Creatures of Light, like you, like me, are alien to the shadow lines which criss and cross them... Such lines must never pierce you. Music will help you stay clear. Open your hearing to its Songs of the Earth. . . . . . . . . (*) Remember always, should you wonder if I have prayed for you today, it is my daily mission. . . . . (*) (*) Lonely Angel's secret speech