Notre Dame de Paris


Quote some rain on its way…


Fireworks at Scheveningen beach, the Netherlands. 20130816


Codex Buranus, also known as Carmina Burana. Songs from the “dark ages” (note the irony): love and sex, morals and drinking, fate and mocking of church. Go and grab a copy of CLEMENCIC CONSORT’s Medieval Songs From the Codex Buranus. This is the real deal. In case you are wondering, I can’t stand that Carl Orff guy.

Source: dudeltopf

Transatlantic - My new world. The only bad thing about this song is that it is not as long as I would have liked it to be.

Source: proganthony1978

A different view on the Taizé hill.


Taizé like you have never seen it before.


If this is the view from your window, what else could you wish for?

Photo Set


Bruce Lee F*cking Loves Drums by Borosaur

Bruce Lee vs. Neil Peart in a 23-minute drum showdown: fund it.

Artist: DeviantArt (via: Xombie Dirge)

Source: xombiedirge

And there she was. I wouldn’t remember the last time I saw her. But now she stood right there, in front of me. Smiling. Or at least that is what I thought she did.

Last time, I guess it might have been even a couple of years back, she walked away, not looking back. Down to the end of the avenue, then right. I assumed she would go left then, walk on for a few kilometres and to the city centre, left from the road.

Apparently not. Or did she? I could never guess.

Time went by. As well as hope. I hadn’t expected to see her back. Now she stood there in front of me. Her eyes glanced with a mixture of happiness for seeing me back and fear for how I would react.

The seconds we stood there facing each other seemed to last a lifetime, or at least as long as she had been gone. Which almost was a lifetime, I reckon.

In a magic moment, she broke the spell and gently leaned forward towards me. I could smell the scent of her perfume. I could feel her long blond hair falling on my shoulders. I felt her hand stroking my back, from the top of my head down to my waist.

I knew she was relieved that I didn’t go berserk at her. But why should I? I was just happy to see her back.

In an attempt to return the affection, I pushed my head forward in her direction, trying to put my arms around her in a way that was supposed to be a hug. This, she clearly didn’t anticipate on. She almost fell backward, barely managing to hold her balance.

Then, she pulled a stern face, waving her right forefinger at me. “Sit tight, you silly dog! You nearly threw me over! And I’ve only been away for an hour!”

When she shouted “Fetch!” as she threw the ball, I knew we were good.

And would always be.