432 Hz Original Acoustic Guitar Instrumental: Camargue at Sunset скачать в хорошем качестве

432 Hz Original Acoustic Guitar Instrumental: Camargue at Sunset

This is a piece from my upcoming album: Nomad’s Opus a collection of acoustic guitar instrumentals written and gathered during seasons of movement — across mountains, coastlines, river gorges, desert light, and open road. Glacier and Yellowstone. The Badlands and the Colorado high country. Banff, Whistler, Vancouver Island. The Oregon and Washington coasts. Northern California. Sedona. The Camargue and Verdon Gorge in the South of France. Langhe, Barolo, Florence, and Lake Garda Italy. Brought home to the mountains of Western North Carolina Most of these pieces began in a camper van with no fixed destination. No studio. No agenda. Just movement. I call the process “catching SoulCurrents.” Rather than forcing songs into existence, I listen. Something is already moving — a tone, a rhythm, a feeling — and I tune into it. I don’t write to define a place. I try to enter what it felt like to be there, beyond language. Each track began as a theme “caught” during travel — a few motifs and notes jotted down and a frequency that lingered after the landscape dissolved into memory. What remains after the names fade. After the labels fall away. The recordings are tuned to A=432hz — not as a statement, but as an intention. A softer alignment. A subtle invitation to settle inward. Musically, the album is nomadic — blending blues, Appalachian, fingerstyle, flamenco, gypsy jazz, and reggae — never fully landing in one home, yet at home in all of them. Each piece is a duet: a captured theme and a one-take improvisation in response to it. Not composed to be consumed — but entered. Listening Notes Before pressing play, take a moment. Close your eyes. Imagine standing at sunset over a vast salt marsh in southern France. The air is still. The horizon glows. Shapes move slowly across water and sky. But instead of naming anything — Don’t call it sunset. Don’t call them birds. Don’t call it wind. Let go of the words. Rest in what remains when labels dissolve. There is a feeling there. A frequency. A quiet knowing. That state — transcending description — is the source of these pieces. Each track is my rendition of that felt sense. Not of the landscape itself, but of the internal current it awakened. The invitation is simple: Listen not for technique. Not for genre. Not for structure. Listen for the current. Allow the music to overtake the listener — the way it overtook the maker. For the listener and the maker are the same on this frequency. https://soulcurrent.substack.com/p/43...