Angelic Music

03/09/2026

The Soft Heart

A soft heart is a quiet miracle.
It remembers the weight of sorrow but chooses light anyway.
It listens before it speaks,
forgives before it understands,
and loves without keeping score.

A soft heart is not easily broken
it is easily moved,
and that is its strength.
It bends like a violinist’s wrist,
never losing its shape,
only finding deeper music.

A soft heart walks gently through the world,
carrying stories the way a candle carries flame
carefully, reverently,
protecting what is fragile,
illuminating what is hidden.

It knows that tenderness is not weakness
but a form of courage,
the kind that grows in quiet rooms,
in winter mornings,
in the hush after someone says “I’m tired”
and you answer, “I’m here.”

A soft heart is a sanctuary.
It gathers the broken pieces of others
and holds them without fear,
trusting that gentleness
is the oldest language of love.

With love & light,
Loretta✨💖🎶

03/09/2026

29/08/2026

William✨🌟❤️

25/08/2026

My heart is breaking 💖
RIP Dolly Parton fly high angel ✨🦋🙏🏽 🪽

25/08/2026

adelaidemusic

24/08/2026

Nonno… on moments like this, when the world grows quiet and my heart grows full, I close my eyes and I can still hear you. ❤️ Your voice, so warm, golden, unmistakably yours, rising like a prayer as you serenaded your Mariù, your beloved Josephine (Nanna) with “Parlami d’amore, Mariù.”

That iconic Italian ballad, born in 1932 from Cesare Andrea Bixio and Ennio Neri, carried everything you embodied:
Romantic devotion so deep it felt like destiny, Beauty and admiration shining in every glance you gave her, Comfort in love that made the whole world feel safe, Living for today, your shared promise to choose joy, no matter what tomorrow held.

Luciano Pavarotti may have recorded a famous version with Henry Mancini and Andrea Griminelli for his 1984 album Mamma, but you, Nonno… you made the song yours. You made it theirs. You made it ours.

I can still see it:
You singing with that glorious, heartfelt voice, and Josephine answering every lyric with her powerful, soaring soprano, two souls in perfect harmony. 💞
Their love didn’t just fill a room… it overflowed into our lives, into our memories, into the very air we breathed as a family. It was a love that taught us how to adore, how to cherish, how to live with full hearts.

Today, on your heavenly birthday, I send blessings up to where you shine now✨brighter than ever, watching over us with that same gentle strength.

To the man who helped shape me 💙Nonno💙
happy heavenly birthday. You live in my heart, in every melody, in every memory, in every moment I feel your presence.

I love you.
🕊️❤️🙏🏽🐟⚓️

📸1950 Sydney.com

24/08/2026

A winter musician’s heart always listens first.
In pretty Adelaide, where cold months slow the world
just enough for a violinist to breathe,
music arrives softly,
a small flame cupped in trembling hands.

Even in winter, flowers linger in the air,
their scent drifting through gardens and quiet streets
like a melody appearing when you least expect it.
And in disappointment’s quiet ache,
a single note rises,
fragile, yes,
but brave enough to lift the air.

We speak of stopping to smell the roses,
but it is more than a phrase,
it is a discipline of the soul.
A pause long enough
for beauty to settle into your senses,
to reshape your phrasing,
your tone,
your breath.
Nature reminds us that music
is not only crafted in rehearsal rooms;
it is gathered gently from the world around us.

Winter teaches us to listen differently.
The hush of cold air,
the softened colours,
the way light rests on petals and pavement,
these are quiet teachers
shaping a musician’s inner landscape.
They invite us to slow down,
to savour,
to let soft beauty seep into our playing
like warmth into chilled fingers.

And this winter,
it has been my pleasure and privilege
to perform at weddings and ceremonies
that bind beautiful souls across Adelaide💞
moments where love becomes its own music,
and I am honoured
to weave my violin
into the tapestry of their day.

Music does not erase sorrow.
It teaches it how to move,
how to soften,
how to become a doorway
instead of a wall.

A violinist in winter doesn’t just play music.
She collects it
one rose,
one scent,
one still moment at a time.

And in the hush after the final note,
life feels possible again,
not perfect,
but illuminated.
A small, steady promise
that even in sadness,
something beautiful still sings.

With love & light,
Loretta✨💖

📸Adelaide Town Hall