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    <title>Gaia: Remembering - Remembering music - Musical memory</title>
    <id>tag:gaia.com,2008,:Gaia</id>
    <link>http://groups.gaia.com/past_lives/discussions/feeds/thread/100579</link>
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    <pubDate>Tue, 23 Jan 2007 18:25:05 GMT</pubDate>
    <description>Gaia: Remembering - Remembering music - Musical memory</description>
    <item>
      <title>Musical memory</title>
      <author>http://oceanprotector.gaia.com</author>
      <dc:creator>Catfish</dc:creator>
      <guid>tag:gaia.com,2007:Gaia-100579</guid>
      <pubDate>Tue, 23 Jan 2007 18:25:05 GMT</pubDate>
      <link>http://groups.gaia.com/past_lives/conversations/view/100579</link>
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&lt;p&gt;      There is a piece of tradional folk music, called &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Best-Mike-Oldfield-Elements/dp/B000008J3I"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Portsmouth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that always gives me goose bumps, makes my solar plexus ache, and overwhelms me with a bittersweet feeling of intense happiness and intense sadness. I love folk music, especially Celtic, but no other piece has the same impact. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I first heard it when I was a child at primary school when it was the music for the credits at the end of a drama series. I&amp;#39;d forgotten it until I heard it again recently on a Mike Oldfield album.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I immersed myself in it one day &amp;ndash; played it over and over &amp;ndash; and had a vision of dancing with girls in white dresses, sunshine, trees and laughter and then the sounds of horses being riden though the trees and a feeling of dread.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;

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