Hmm..
Well, I was just blundering, toying with various memes and surveys and so I'm just going to ramble a post maybe with some random bits and pieces.. Fic ideas, consious stream of thought.. that sort of think. Just a free ramble.
Dam Dariram is one of those songs where you have to concentrate on some lyrics to focus on them but if you let your mind lull it can evoke such immagery, like most songs. When I listen to the song and think of setting I see dimly lit rooms with high ceilings. Smoke filling the rooms in a foggy haze while multicolored strobes flashed to the beat, turning and twisting like living luminescent ghosts in the otherwise almost totally dark room. The smell of alcohol, sweat, breath, cigarettes, penetrating the senses and becoming easy to focus on. Despite all this it would still be easy to breath and though crowded one could still move freely if they intelligently picked their way between the crowds. The strobes would flicker off of the bottles of liquor, wine and other such alcoholic beverages lined up on shelf upon shelf behind the bar giving the illusion of small colored entities, fairies perhaps, flitting around or in the bottles...
Man.. that was an interesting thing.. just free random mental immagery evoked by a song. Gotta love that. I've been thinking about this sort of thing and the idea intrigues me, the thought to just sit and let a song take hold and let it run its course in your thoughts.. I wanna write more but I think I'm gonna stuff anything else behind an lj cut for your space saving convenience as I've already taken up enough room...
Pale lips part in a sneer and harsh words are exchanged blow for blow, the hurt brought wounding as deeply as any sword and leaving the emotional wound bleeding the same crimson as the red veltet walls and decorative style of the setting of the room itself. A room laid out with immaculate perfection, each artistically sculptured chair set in it's designated place, the offending light of the room reflecting off of polished wood surfaces of chairs in a manner to inferr that to sit there would be to defile a sacred artwork.
I didn't see that description coming when I started on it. This one had "Karma Killer" by Robbie Williams playing and it just sort of took on a rather interesting tangent of it's own. How curious...
Lips sealed tightly with a determination not to let a whimper or note of sorrow escape from the depths of a throat that was even now painfully constricting with the need to cry out, to sob like a wounded animal. A voice that wished to howl out it's rage and expose it's hurt to the world, a voice that was suppressed by the mind, by societal notions, by life experiences and by the fear to be realized as the weak one and torn apart.
"Half Pain" from Witch Hunter Robin was used in this one and again I got a rather interesting description I hadn't expected but love all the same..
A sea of pink and blue whipped up in the wind, lost in a sea of cherry blossoms floating freely into the expansive sky and toying with the tears of parting lovers. Ignorant to the pain of separation as it joyfully plucks at strands of hair and caresses the skin with a gentleness that in this weather was forgiving and kind, not like harsh biting winter winds that stung with freezing drops of rain. No, this was a milding warm yet cool summer breeze that lapped at the skin at just he perfect tempurature.
"Gekkou" by Klaha evoked the last mental image.. How odd, the things that music causes the mind to draw up.. Most I imagine are all based off of association, preconcieved notions, and a sense of inner sight, but other times images come unbidden. Those are the best images, the ones that float freely of their own will and making and refuse to be put aside. Some are just scattered thoughts but others are whole lands and countries...
Anyway, my final description is sort of a vague mental description of Sigurd, something that registered in my thoughts and I feel the need to type out.
A figure that moved like writhing gold when in motion, sleek muscular structure that shifted and writhed beneath skin in a trained manner, never a line or curve out of place. Whether sweat glistened or simply smooth with the coolness of room temperature the gold never faded and at sunset would be that much more luminous for it, like a burning flame of living form given flesh and mind and eyes made out of sapphires or turquoise or blue tigers-eye stones that contrasted the fire and white at the tip burning hotter than the gold of skin. A flare of white that curved and licked at the line of an angular, well formed jawline. Full lips that rested slight part except when in deep thought and then tightened into a straight line looking firm and considering of everything. Fire adonis, golden breath of the desert given life by the sun herself. From flame to flesh and back again with the elegant motions of dance long trained into tribal desert families yet did not need a name or a reason or to be taught. Something beyond understanding and simply instinct. Something relying on gut feeling, thought, and concentration yet freeing of the mind. A dance that once programmed into each fibre of being would never be forgotten.
o.o; Wow.. man. I really like all this.. Gotta do this more often...
Dam Dariram is one of those songs where you have to concentrate on some lyrics to focus on them but if you let your mind lull it can evoke such immagery, like most songs. When I listen to the song and think of setting I see dimly lit rooms with high ceilings. Smoke filling the rooms in a foggy haze while multicolored strobes flashed to the beat, turning and twisting like living luminescent ghosts in the otherwise almost totally dark room. The smell of alcohol, sweat, breath, cigarettes, penetrating the senses and becoming easy to focus on. Despite all this it would still be easy to breath and though crowded one could still move freely if they intelligently picked their way between the crowds. The strobes would flicker off of the bottles of liquor, wine and other such alcoholic beverages lined up on shelf upon shelf behind the bar giving the illusion of small colored entities, fairies perhaps, flitting around or in the bottles...
Man.. that was an interesting thing.. just free random mental immagery evoked by a song. Gotta love that. I've been thinking about this sort of thing and the idea intrigues me, the thought to just sit and let a song take hold and let it run its course in your thoughts.. I wanna write more but I think I'm gonna stuff anything else behind an lj cut for your space saving convenience as I've already taken up enough room...
Pale lips part in a sneer and harsh words are exchanged blow for blow, the hurt brought wounding as deeply as any sword and leaving the emotional wound bleeding the same crimson as the red veltet walls and decorative style of the setting of the room itself. A room laid out with immaculate perfection, each artistically sculptured chair set in it's designated place, the offending light of the room reflecting off of polished wood surfaces of chairs in a manner to inferr that to sit there would be to defile a sacred artwork.
I didn't see that description coming when I started on it. This one had "Karma Killer" by Robbie Williams playing and it just sort of took on a rather interesting tangent of it's own. How curious...
Lips sealed tightly with a determination not to let a whimper or note of sorrow escape from the depths of a throat that was even now painfully constricting with the need to cry out, to sob like a wounded animal. A voice that wished to howl out it's rage and expose it's hurt to the world, a voice that was suppressed by the mind, by societal notions, by life experiences and by the fear to be realized as the weak one and torn apart.
"Half Pain" from Witch Hunter Robin was used in this one and again I got a rather interesting description I hadn't expected but love all the same..
A sea of pink and blue whipped up in the wind, lost in a sea of cherry blossoms floating freely into the expansive sky and toying with the tears of parting lovers. Ignorant to the pain of separation as it joyfully plucks at strands of hair and caresses the skin with a gentleness that in this weather was forgiving and kind, not like harsh biting winter winds that stung with freezing drops of rain. No, this was a milding warm yet cool summer breeze that lapped at the skin at just he perfect tempurature.
"Gekkou" by Klaha evoked the last mental image.. How odd, the things that music causes the mind to draw up.. Most I imagine are all based off of association, preconcieved notions, and a sense of inner sight, but other times images come unbidden. Those are the best images, the ones that float freely of their own will and making and refuse to be put aside. Some are just scattered thoughts but others are whole lands and countries...
Anyway, my final description is sort of a vague mental description of Sigurd, something that registered in my thoughts and I feel the need to type out.
A figure that moved like writhing gold when in motion, sleek muscular structure that shifted and writhed beneath skin in a trained manner, never a line or curve out of place. Whether sweat glistened or simply smooth with the coolness of room temperature the gold never faded and at sunset would be that much more luminous for it, like a burning flame of living form given flesh and mind and eyes made out of sapphires or turquoise or blue tigers-eye stones that contrasted the fire and white at the tip burning hotter than the gold of skin. A flare of white that curved and licked at the line of an angular, well formed jawline. Full lips that rested slight part except when in deep thought and then tightened into a straight line looking firm and considering of everything. Fire adonis, golden breath of the desert given life by the sun herself. From flame to flesh and back again with the elegant motions of dance long trained into tribal desert families yet did not need a name or a reason or to be taught. Something beyond understanding and simply instinct. Something relying on gut feeling, thought, and concentration yet freeing of the mind. A dance that once programmed into each fibre of being would never be forgotten.
o.o; Wow.. man. I really like all this.. Gotta do this more often...