Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
I found a brief piece of by Antonio Vivaldi around this time which became my __inhead Mood Music_. Called Al Santo Sepolcro (At The Holy Sepulchre), it opens more like a piece of modern orchestral music, and although it it moves toward Vivaldi__ familiar harmonies, there is always the threat that it will fall back into dissonance. The piece progresses in an exquisite agony, poised on a knife edge between beauty and disfigurement, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain. Perfect.
Behind the Mask of the Horror Actor
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I found a brief piece of by Antonio Vivaldi around this time which became my __inhead Mood Music_. Called Al Santo Sepolcro (At The Holy Sepulchre), it opens more like a piece of modern orchestral music, and although it it moves toward Vivaldi__ familiar harmonies, there is always the threat that it will fall back into dissonance. The piece progresses in an exquisite agony, poised on a knife edge between beauty and disfigurement, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain. Perfect.
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