I do not think the first "writer" who inspired your music and performance.

But in the train on the way back, I could not sleep until I wrote this. PS: I might make a mistake somewhere in the translation - I partly helped by Google translator. Just laugh if You find any

Angels fly to London

It was the saving rain, and people in a metal ingot, called the train did not feel boiled alive. Slowly straight line paths hastening the day that was predicted in advance is even more unrealistic than any other. But this day was special. In the morning I felt great, although woke up with the sunrise. It was impossible to guess that plenty of work up the desire for the unknown streets turns into a desire to sit down and indulge in relaxation and tranquility. The city itself - it is a green crowded anthill with his busy running across each other inhabitants and places to stay - forever buzzing beehives. Thats ironic. And yes, it's a big city, and to get from point "A" to point "B", you have the knack, of which I do not possess. After four hours walking, accustomed to rest my feet, begging for mercy. After a short break, our goal was to find a place where something was about to happen expected and mysterious, in fact is why we came here. In theory, it was easier. In practice it turned out that I did not once thought of "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho. To find a place that was almost under our noses, we had done the hard way on the slopes and lifts, struggling with the local midges, and spend about two hours. But now we know, and we wanted to be there first. A few hours of anxious waiting, and the last obstacle was overcome disturbing.

Small covered area filled with people. More and more, they were added from several sides. Someone else was in a hurry to choose ideal, someone shy. But we were the first. Near the center and at the edge of a treasured place. We - me and my friend Alex. Another hour passed out. Feet hurt, excitement grew, but pleased that I was ahead. So close that I could touch that has not even appeared. Or rather, who. Finally, it was rewarded. The excitement inside mixed with joy and all it exploded. Mischievous will-o'-the-wisp lights up in front of us and brought the sounds of the violin. So close that we could relate to, but no one dared. If you fancy yourself as a crying violin, then immediately throw the picture out of your head. Spark jumped, spun and had fun, and the music had fun with it. It was smiling, and every single one of the faces reflected the same. The moment was gone all irrelevant. There was only one moment. Only now, partly cooled down by the brain, you begin to analyze and understand the simple and true things. Did you think about that, on what car you go home? The fact to which apartment you are going, what brand to suit you wearing? No. All these thoughts that I allow myself to be called petty disappeared. It was a kind of awareness that someone gives you much more than you paid. And in general, do have some thoughts. The past and the future has disappeared. It was only now, but the concept of "time" is gone. Twinkle was running from left to right, back and forth, and then closer. And ran behind the music, trying to repeat its invisible movement. Now I understand why Eru Ilvatar created Arda of music. Music - it's magic and miracles. This is a great tool Creator, and it is true that He gives it not for everyone. Only to those who can use this power properly, with due respect and responsibility. The ignorant will not get into the hands of music. Another may try to recover it by fraud, quackery, but the sprouts come out no more than a lie, seeded initially. And He (Creator) makes it into the hands of the Angels, and they take it gently and tenderly, and are infinite. And in this case, little angel - playful will-o'-the-wisp, hot and dazzling, gave us the magic of music. Its tenderness and harshness, its sadness and joy, its grandeur and simplicity. And, when a dense crowd of people moved, screamed and jumped, in the world of music each was alone with it.

There is enormous infinity, but any such moment can not be too long to enjoy them. It's a little sad. But only over time. And when the lights went out, and after all disappeared Angel light, people came back filled with souls. Souls who may have long been thirsty, drank and now full. Only when the road led back, we felt forgotten the bitterness of loss. Happy and sad at the same time. Meanwhile, not knowing weariness, Angel flew to London.