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Another Harpsichord piece by François Couperin played on a piano by Gerluz. again this is from his "Pieces for Harpsichord," Book two, Suite 6. ...originally published in 1717, a mere 7 years before Benjamin Franklin was born.

Les Bergeries is a Harpsichord piece written by François Couperin. He originally published it in 1717 in his "Pieces for Harpsichord," Book two, Suite 6.

Taking hot and spicy to the next level, Chiltepin is a fancy, latin-esque tune that is mostly in 12/8 time

The rosy glow of a late summer sunset folds into the lilac & deep purples of dusk. Almost like water the transformed light flows through the open windows and mingles with the radiance of the single candle in the room. In the stillness of the evening a lone person floats through the room, bobbing and spinning in a slow quadrille..

A cool morning full of promise. Ah, but the coffee tastes good. come on out to the back porch and watch the day begin underneath the the cherry trees

Put another pot of coffee on the boiler!   Have yourself another cup of joe. Then keep on drinking until your nerves are a tingling   and your foot just cant stop tapping the floor.

She's sweet as the sunshine and bright as the day Whenever she smiles, the clouds all go away Here in my arms she forever will stay Song of my heart, she's my Latin Bouquet

Gerluz floats us along through this lazy waltz like a stroll through a flower garden. a bed of petunias is followed by some peonies followed by daisies... and look over there they even have some cauliflower! Ah but a waltz amongst the scented air is a delight indeed

Hippity hop   the frog does plop     o'er the lily pads.

Fierce and driving, Gravity Wave piloted by Gerluz explores the tidal influences of black holes & butterfly wings.

Sure you do... The anticipation of the ever-so-slow clock... The joy of the recess bell... The mad rush out of the classroom... ten or fifteen minutes of freedom... ten or fifteen minutes of swings, slides, monkey bars and jungle gyms. Running around in circles bouncing giant red balls.

Clarence Pfricht was having a bad week. Everything was going wrong. Everything always goes wrong. Everything had nothing better to do than go wrong because if they didn't go wrong, they would only go worse.

The evening is an unchanging thing. The Earth spins us out of the sunlight and into the night and we pass through the luminal ombre of dusk to get there. And as we pass through the dusk the starts don't appear, they don't move across the sky... we, move beneath them as they shine in their seemingly infinite and unchanging poses.