Let the rain and the sun
fight it out.
We gain either way

let time and hope
fight it out
We lose either way.

Let black and white
try to merge
We hope wither way

let sounds and quiet
try to merge
We fall either way

let fast and slow
confuse us
we stop either way

let hot and cold
fool us
we march either way

let opposites determine
and seek a reaction
and you get, action

So keeps on turning our ball of life
Facing the moon, the sun,
At times cold, at times hot
And this time hot, very..*
different lifeforms seek shelter
from blazing , merciless rays of life
a cat is sprawl ,lifeless trying to get out of his
unfair fur..
ants are twisting around ,
like a leaf who lost a reason
and so continue this existence
till some drops of hope
will clear way to a washed up future

all crave the moistures of yesterdays
alas, those are long vanished
into a blue vast of cosmic energies
in a predetermined dance
cling to a faint hope
of cooler more logical solutions
And we are tilting between
glasses half empty
and dried-up glimpsy hopes

At times , a faint watery smile
And then, the blazing reality keeps on
turning and twisting all in its way
marking and spotting us all
leaving the world with more questions
than answers ..

translation to my latest post..

"Lena's town
Hanover will be called
there should be a limit to
a planned folishness

wierd temporary voting
a last "we" try-out
erectod ego
in front of posterity-cameras

and what happened?
a rythmic song causes Hysteria
a temporary insanity
reasons for mental dis-clothing
of borders and exactness

and as the year will thaw
mass hysteria is forgotten
the logic will again pay rent
and the razio will re-conquer

but these are good processes
that dictate futuristic sanity
that make and stable real qualities
and cancel temporary drunkness

וכעת תקרא הנובר
"העיר של לינה"
וגם אם זו בדיחה
הלוא יש גבול
להשטתות שיטתית

..בחירות מוזרות,זמניות
נסיון "אנחנו" אחרון
זקיפות אגו
אל מול מצלמות מנציחות

וכי מה קרה?
שיר קצבי, גורם היסטריה
אי-שפיות זמנית מלכתחילה
סבות להתערטלות מנטלית
להפשרת והסרת גבולות ודיוקים

ועם הפשר השנה
תשכחנה היסטריות המון
ההגיון ישלם שכר-דירה
והרציונליות תכבוש מחדש

אך טובים תהליכים אלו
שמכתיביםהתפכחות עתידית
ושמיצבים ומעצבים אכויות של אמת
ומבטלים שכרונות זמניים

Brrr...

Midst February in northern Germany.
The birds have ceased singing, even the worms are craving a shelter.
Stalaktites are hanging their icy head down , as if to thank those freezing temperatures for keeping them alive.
They seem grotesque in their mis-shapen watery non-form.
A quietness of cold tempratures is blanketing the surroundings, leaving all mamals and non mammals tucked safely in their homes or at any warmth giving point.
We, the inteligent species, as we so proudly call ourselves, are left to care for nature and its inhibitants.
3 squirrles have made our trees their definite home, and now each morning I practice to throw 3 wall-nuts at the now frozen snow , and try to get them as close as possible to each other.
To my demise , I discover often, that indeed there was a good reason, why I didnt have a career as a basketball player as the distances between those nuts are to big for comfort.., but suffice it to say that the squirrles ralish those nuts and consume them in a speed worthy of noting.
Also , those poor birds , whose wings are heavy from snow, whose beaks might be used as a can-opener, and whose feathers are cold and britle, yes, those birds need some nourishment too, and so you see many people hanging heavy bags of birds seeds on their trees.
Also, another "blessing" of those bone breaking temperatures, is the frozen car wibdows, that need to be de-iced, so as to give driving a chance.
And so rolls the winter on

allready monday da 15th Februar

And so, the lazy clocky hands , are moving again in this frantic un-controlled dance towards infinity of time, thereby dictating to us, the mere mortals, when to perform certain duties, like eating, cooking, or snow -shoveling.
The Mystery of time had escaped many brilliant minds , and wrecked havoc on other ones. No0one seems to be able to manipulate time , stop it, accelerate it, or do anything to it that nature intended not to.
And so, in this manner the clock is rationing the remainder of the hours, dissecting them to pieces , like the throat of that poor chicken-dinner.

Time for you , is not necessarily , time for me. Who's to say that a passing hour for me feels the same as a passing hour for YOU?
Thomas Mann in his now famous "Zauber-berg" has written a whole chapter of how the time "toys" with us, and how it is actually not a steady component, but rather a tricky ,sophisticated tool that is not always ticking the same way for all. Those timely thoughts were brought to you by the laughing time company!
Good night, knight of the night!

פלפולי מוח

במרכז העגול
צבע חום
מסביבו אטמוספרה חיונית
סובב ומתז הוא
עגולי קור
רוטטים, לופתים
פוגעים מו הסתם
בכוכב שנלכד
והולך כמו שה שוטה
מטעמים ברורים
הוקצו ונוקו כל כורתי הברית

back at ya..

and so , here I am again, dear readers, a bit older, more grey hairs that found my head as a nice neigberhood, you might say older, but I dont know about "wiser" as the saying goes. This is real work to sit down and decide to "blog" as the internet genaration have coined that phrase, but it is a good exercise in creativity, as the word pool is an endless one, and the combinations of sentences and of ideas are endless as well. As what you ask? maybe as the universe ? Maybe as the time that keeps on, until either the world is washed away, or you yourself become a faint memory in the eyes of those who knew and cared for you. So, after this attempt in scribing, I shall rest my tired hands and check the results of this here posting

my vintage x-blog

Tuesday, September 26, 2006


dear readers.I take a break for a while. Sorry, the enthusiasm has passed. I am busy
posted by cellosolo at 3:44 PM 0 comments

well, now that I have learned how to re log into my blog site , even though someone else might have been on the computer blogging away ,and reloging blogging, now that the road is repaved for eternal electronic signals etched in Internet memory for ever, now that the connection to my fast growing personal, but alas, not so personal diary had been reestablished, I can get back to my stories , poems and thoughts , and reconnect with the vast, mindful , crowd of readers , I had gathered in the first two weeks of blogging.I guess each sentence , com positionally, has to come to a stop, or else , my sentences would snake around the page, overflowing to the next, threatening to take all in their way, and sure in their sweeping way, would coz the reader a feeling of instability that might lead to immobility too, being so stuck to the place where you finally read those long Germanic sentences.I think , and believe , I had come to writing like this a lot because of the language I hear here, in the land of the real composers, and the real beer, in the land where the speaking people know in advance what they are about to say, thereby planning that final verbal sentencial conclusion, like that quarterback football player going for the final throw that would lead to the touch-down, as the score in 17 to 12 against himFor the immense European crowd , who had gathered here today, a clarification is needed by explaining that a touchdown is worth 6 points, hence in the previous allegory, the quarterback has thrown the ball , and when he connect to a receiver, he then get the 6 points, which for you math wizards out there, would mean that his team being down as stated before 17 to 12, would ensure a win ..Sometimes , I think, its also OK, to let the words flow like that shower that was left un-manned, and just see what at the end will happen if anything.Not each writing has to have a final purpose and a deep meaning, if few in our lifetimes are as such, then we are lucky, and so the time is vanishing in the corner of the room, smiling at me like saying " see, how I cornered you into accepting me between these walls"? which for me is just fine, since , i am the boss of my own time.Can time actually talk? Maybe, if you believe it can, then can it..And so, I will hurry up and post this here thoughts , only to came back today , and tell you of a house concert we had last week
posted by cellosolo at 2:40 AM 1 comments
Wednesday, September 20, 2006

another anecdote...As is my habit in these in-between summer-autumn days, as the day can't decide whether to start or to still indulge us in a few more minutes of breath-taking sleep, as the birds finally gave up their monotonous song, and promptly started worrying of the upcoming colder days, I woke up, feeling the musts of the day as a burden on my boyish shoulders, and planning how at best I should confront said day, with the utmost easy approach I could muster...My kid , who as her habit is lately, skipped the school day, only to find out by year's end that again she is one of the best students in the Gymnasium, had lazily paced in the room downstairs, yet having not eaten breakfast."abba", she said, as she always calls me, (father ), shall we go have something to eat? Mind you , that normally we concoct something here that would probably be disdained at a five star Hilton, but would do for a modest restaurant.I immediately thought of some places in the hood, and suggested that we 1st head out to a local store where according to some old German standards we are entitled to have some money brought back to us upon presenting empty already drunk bottles.Naomi, as is her name, thought the idea was lovely, and settled for the thought of breakfasting upon returning the bottles.As we sat back in the car, bottles returned, money received, she suggested a local restaurant that we used to frequent where they cook some homey-farmer-like eggs washed in pig's fat..As I pondered the idea, I found it good and lovely and we headed to said local.As we arrived a small sign welcomed us declaring that it won't open its doors until the clock's hands met. Good, I thought, so we have a few minutes to either bake a bit in the sun, or go shopping as prescribed before.The time was a few minutes to opening , and I started the car heading to a store.We performed buying duties as well as two somewhat unorganized people can do, and headed back to the restaurant, feeling the anticipatory digesting juices dancing within.We arrived as the big hand was already enlarging its angle with the small hand, parked the car, and knocked politely on the door, as is the habit here in this small rural north Germany place..No answer.. "funny", I murmured.. I distinctly remember that is the entrance; have all gone to have an early round af a bit-past-noon beer? Answering self in the negative, I continued to pace around looking for another door.. "here", I said to Naomi, who by now was somewhat giving up on the idea to have a delicious, costly breakfast served at her.We entered the room from the back only to find two drunks filled with tattoos as the wishing well is with water."sorry to inform you" said one of them in German, but the owners are on a vacation and will return sometime next week.. Feeling like a truck had just hit me going downhill, I packed my daughter and my feelings which were based on the idea that I don't have to cook, steam, cut and slice, and headed home where I had to... you guessed it ...cook steam cut and slice.
posted by cellosolo at 4:35 AM 1 comments
Tuesday, September 19, 2006


And now you know
the smile behind me
the love that guides me
the hope that drives me
to the greenest pastures
posted by cellosolo at 10:47 PM 1 comments

Cello Power !The door is closed on brain of wavesto the shore seek the shellsof shades of grey and brown they dreamto be collected and thrown awaythe lines are shorterchairs mught be softerA matter of age you say and grin?..not realy , continues the tickingthat of a clock or machinethat of a bomb or a stereo setproclaiming high decibilsand the knock down is completeOutside howles the windfor the ticking is doneclouds are restingon top of expecting windscontinuation is superflows at timesbetter cutting in red fleshendless stream of play and funmezmorizing words to be done
posted by cellosolo at 7:39 AM 2 comments
Monday, September 18, 2006

A tale from a small town..And so we sat outside as the now familiar buzzing planes were still zooming their last hora , as the day kissed the night "hello" and a few green frogs were considering a late midnight party, only they couldn't decide of the exact time, there we sat, the four of us having an evening meal. The conversation showered to different directions, exotic lands, perfumes and stout beer. The air was pregnant with smells of never-to-be-seen-again day, and the flowers were bowing their heads in a leaf-felt gratitude of waters that had hit their roots. The 2nd bottle of wine was consumed lazily, as the participants were walking about, sometimes in direction of the kitchen, and at times just a short private round to the water closet. At this point , I must clear one point, for those of you (is it possible...?), who still dont know me.I am the kind of guy , who asks questions, expects explanations , and when the answer doesn't meet the already agreed upon conclusion in the brain of the writer, then a small argument might also ensue, all in good spirits, and usually in a bass tone. ok, once in a while it might be elevated to the alto timbre, and that might raise a few eye-brows, but who cares..In a small town such as ours , you never know who you meet and whom you met and remembers you, and you dont recall or vice-versa.The young lady that sat in front of me, legs folded, staring into space was nowasked politely" what does your father do for a living" to which she answered such and such , and then I continue to inquire , "and your mom?", to which she answered:" she works in a public office in our town" My usually fast brain-wheels kicked into 4th gear and as I was paging back through the last 3 years of my being a part of this community, I wasn't quite sure, If I had an encounter with that lady in the past, or I was imagining it. And if I did, it must have been not so loud , coz if my memory serves me right, all was ok between me and them, or was it?Suppose I made a scandal in that now-known-office, and the mama came home to talk of that bloody american who was recently umgezogen to said village? Suppose she had continued to describe the happenings of the day in non-complimentary terms, making me look as small as a peanut in a deserted field?But suppose she was utterly impressed by the charm and determination I exuded as I tried to adjust my bill to a certain norm?.. Who knows what took place that day in that office. There were no Video cameras to take and tape that into posterity, and so we can only rely on our limited memory, and if such is the case then all is well in little town.. But is it?Actually , who cares, why should I or you care? many beers were drunk since and many cars were brought to the junk yard. This tale should serve as a warning, to always behave according to the boring acceptable norms , handed down to us from genarations, and to make sure, that if you decide to make a small public scandal , the other party must not have any kids, or else their sons or daughters might be the friend of your daughter and son..Think about that, then forget it!...
posted by cellosolo at 8:10 AM 1 comments
Sunday, September 17, 2006

Hello again avid readers of blog land.As promised yesterday in a previous posting I should give an account of a teacher's concert that took place in Itzehoe last night.. And so I will. The question of course , like any performance is where should I start?.. Shall I start at the very beginning and describe the non-involved way of playing of the too-long, too hook-like pianist , who graced the stage and felt there like a grass-hopper in a cocktail party? Shall I jump to the very end when yours truly mezmorized the audience and lifted them from a state of half-sleep to an african excitement? Shall I maybe go noetheless, to the break (intermission), and describe the Matronitas that had just performed, trotting as proud as a young poler bear , who just had her cub in captivity? As you can tell the possibilities are vast, and I have to choose how best to describe to you the event that took place, so you too might have the feeling you had just been there on the wings of electronics..Suffice it to say thet through these writings you will somehow get the idea of what took place. A Title of Shakespear's play comes to mind as I post this. "comedy of errors". The performers at the event are all teaching at that village school, and more then that they cant imagine their lot would be, nor should it. Lets face it. Not evry tomatoe's fortune is to be eaten by the queen of england, and not every glass of wine is to be drunk by the Prince of denmark. In other words, one should realize what he is destined for, accept it with a smile and move on. I mean if you look on stage like you just finished a night shift at the butcher's shop your playing of this comical harp, cant be that much better, right? Or if you look like a rainessance figure, all made up in the colors of the rain-bow , and you are blowing mercylessly into that metal tube with holes in it, trying desparately to force some musical air into it , as you twist and turn the intended tempo to adjust to your non-ability of playing more then 22 notes per minute, as your audience is busy doing all but listening, then perhaps you should be a Madam at an old folkes home.And what if you are a Russian hopefull , who thinks this is her chance to trounce the world with her apparant ability of producing sounds and chords upon the piano that maybe the composer had wanted to, but never thought he had written something as boring as the sands in the Sinay desert.I think by now you start getting my impression of the "close to a high-school" production that sadly took place last night.And then when all had but given up on the chance to be spiritually lifted, to have their soul soar to new hieghts, when all had felt that they would have rather stayed at home, eat some auf-lauf , or watch a boring rerun on RTL TV, when all had decided to soon go to the buffet and at least justify their poor choice of going to that concert, then rose from the dark room yours trully , and put an unforgetable spin on that evening. Yes I could and probably will go on and on , how I had awoken a bunch of tired people from their bordom, How I spread a smile across their sleepy sausage-oiled faces, how with my daughter we performed the Hungarian Raphsody by popper and the Kol-midrei by Max bruch, I could then tell you how they shouted Bravo and asked for more, and got it.. I could ,but that is not for today, for today is done.
posted by cellosolo at 1:22 AM 3 comments
Saturday, September 16, 2006

Coffee or no coffee? coffee, you say, then the remaining question is :"after blogging? before? during perhaps?". Well, since I am a very minute blogging expert but a rather expirienced coffee drinker, this question should be answered in the coffee direction, you say, but alas, again the magic reys of electronic heaven are shining through and preventing one from deciding either in the negative or the positive as far as the coffee question in concerned.Let us, please, have a closer analytical look at the question at hand, shall we?Suppose I were to drink a cup of coffee before this post, then my blood preasure might have been elivated , and all the physical changes that occur , whilst one consumes that beverage, would have made this post , a bit different then it is now, right? I mean the thought would have raced differently, the comclusions, might have been other then the ones I arrive at, and so on. But now suppose on the other hand, I didn't have any coffee, then of course the changes I had just mentioned would have remained doormat, and the writting, therfore, would have been of different nature..So now, would you guess, If I had consumed coffee today?Not that its very important, but by now , eaten by curiosity, you quickly scroll down to the end of this post , and fivereshly search for the time , in which it was posted. Then, of course, being knowledgable in the ways of the world, you quicly add 9 hours to the post time, to figure out what time did this writer actuall write this. then, you continue in your now convoluted thought process to deduct" Ahaa!" He wrote it at about 12 oclock local time, which means he had coffee before. now, feeling secure in your assertion your rub your palms in an un-hidden gesture of pride coupled with some errogance only to find out that the coffee drinking has a lot to do with the time by which this writer had awoken up, right? so , you see, there are namy factors to be considered when one is to guess weather one had coffee or not. Having said that, I think I might hurry up to the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee... only , you will never know weather it is the 1st cup of the day or the 2nd.... 3rd?
posted by cellosolo at 2:32 AM 1 comments
Friday, September 15, 2006

Hello friends! If you bothered to read my short profile , you might have noticed that my number one interest is Gesche, and so upon an encouraging phone call from her a few minutes back , I rushed to my computeral friend and with anticipating fingers I am getting ready to burn the midnight oil..All I need sometimes is a bit of a positive feedback that will send me to the creative heaven of thought and feelings. And so , I shall keep the suspense a bit longer so far as the camera is concerned and will try to concentrate on other subjects. as I playfully type right now, I am not so sure-minded as to what exactly I will chat about , but as is my practice, when the fingers run, the road can but be filled with unexpected nuggets of imaginary creative fertile grounds..Gesche is a woman a bit younger then me, well a real bit younger, whom I met but two years ago, and she put a total different spin on my life, and directed me and still redirecting me to places I haven't been yet to, nor would I have never ,were it not for her encouragement and truthfulness. If you are ever lucky in your own life your "Gesche" might be out there for you waiting to set you free and at ease with yourself and thereby guaranteeing a better , more fulfilled life for you and yours.Of course in the future , you , dear reader, will learn a lot about Gesche, and more then about her , you will get to know her thought the snippets I will interject, and when you feel , or I do, that you are ready to look for your own soul mate, I might release her from your now curious expectations, and return her back to blog heaven at a later date, when I sense that you are ready for the next dose.And so like that surgeon, guiding his trusting knife, I too will guide you in the labyrinth of Gaschism, and by and by will enlighten your view and enlarge your circle of understanding.As you can tell by now, I can go on and on about Gesche and I will always have something new and fresh to tantalize your thirsty mind.Now the big hand and the small clocky hand are both at the right side of the 12 digit, which would indicate to you mathematicians there that the time is passed midnight, and so as the over-head buzzing planes are graciously agreeing to rest their roaring engines, I am enjoying some quiet minutes of un-clocked time...My second interest, I think , if my memory serves me right is music, and so I went and looked for some bloggers , who might share the musical passion with me, only to find some trite, un interesting blabber and loaded video clips, that in the opinion of this writer, serve no purpose , other then to self promote the blogger and bore the readers. I might be a bit critical, but I think it is still very nice that we all are a bit different.. would you agree? of course , I can only imagine your heads moving from up to down, as you uncontrollably agreeing with my last suggestive question.Tomorrow is another day, and on that day I shall be playing in Itzihoe, a small village-town in the north of Germany,a teacher's concert. I was asked by the organizer to play at the very end, and maybe send the might-be-by-now-bored-listeners, to a frenzy of artistic excitement coupled with true relief, and the realization, that music can and should be invigorating and a soul-vibrating endeavour.Well, after this description , imagine what will happen tomorrow on stage , as try to wake up some people from a deep sleep.At the Piano will be no other then my lovely daughter, who will accompany her father as only she can. It might be the reason I am getting carried away describing this concert is that I feel so performingly secure as my kid holds the reins of accompaniment. I am sure to give you a full report of the concert and how it happened the way I just described it...But before which, I might still re log for a short visit, and tell maybe something else, maybe of a purring cat to my right side as he eagerly anticipate the patting and the feminine touch of , you guessed it, no other but Gesche.. good night
posted by cellosolo at 3:37 PM 1 comments

So friends, by now you probablycant eat or sleep, thinking, so did he get that camera or not? I can of course understand your impatience with this whole subject but before I reveal the resulsts, (kind of, like at the Oscars) let me just pose a hypothetical question to you avid reader of mine. Suppose for the sake of argument I had not won that camera, what then? would the world change its directional spin? would bananas disappear from the colorfur-offering shelves? would the money disappear from the world and we all be returning to the caves? of course not, these are what is known as "retorical questions" , those questions assume that the answer is already known.yousee.. Now, suppose I had won that Camera, what then? would I become rich and famous by shooting pictures of middle-aged house-wives stuck at the bus station at 2 pm? would I then create a short documentary depicting the strife of the kids in Lebanon? Would I perhaps film my own habitat therby encasing their doings to eternity? of course not? so did I get that Camera? well, I guess you have to tune in tomorrow to find that out, see that way i build suspense in you, and your soul is now tortured by the unknowing of the facts? but that is where MY fun begins.. see what I mean? so until tomorrow then , when I might reveal the answer to the question..
posted by cellosolo at 12:24 PM 1 comments

OK, so now I am back from teaching at Itzihoe, where I had been swimming upstream for the passed two years, but now it seems the current is stronger , and the fruits of my labor are shall we say, like fruit of the loom.. )a make of men's underwear in America)..I have grown very fond of the kids I teach, no matter how talented or not talented they are, which makes quiting almost impossible..I have 6 students right now , and for reasons that would be understood later, I cant disclose their names.. suffice it to say, that a couple of them are as talented for the cello as I am as the prima Ballerina for the Bolshoi theatre..But they are trying their hardest and for this I still take my UN seen hat off.I know I am not very organized in my writ ting and when you read this you might simply say under your moustache or none there of.. "mmm.. what is this guy talking about" . But , since this here is not exactly an "Agatha Christie" murder mystery , I will clear the air and say that I am in my early 50's, and for three years I have been living here in Germany, and am trying to play some concerts and to add something to the lives of my listeners, which is not simple.At this point of my virginal blogging I would love to direct you avid blogger reader to my web site at http://cello-solo.com/ and also you should go to http://youtube.com/, there you type in the search field "shamban" and you will see my videos . In about 50 minutes I shall know if indeed I had been out bid by some schmuck on Ebay, on my hopefully here soon to be reside, digital camcorder, or maybe I had won the damn thing, from which point my life will change for ever.. or will it?What I like about this here , is that anything you write here you may elect to keep in its original form, or change it, or do what you wish to it, but the fact that it will be kept for good in electronic heaven, makes my fingers rush upon the keys like a frog running from a fun-filled hunter-cat..And if one of these days I will be hit by a truck, at least one can also go to this here, and gather something of the deceased..So as I am checking the clock , I see that a few minutes are still left until I am the new owner of a shiny camcorder. Then of course I may elect to film anything I wish, a bit like Steven Spielberg, only without the huge pay check.. you see also know a thing or two about Hollywood , as I had, yes dear reader, spent almost 25 years in the studios of Los Angeles. So until next time
posted by cellosolo at 10:29 AM 0 comments