What Light Does

I with my sack full of dreams my heart never puts down.       (he/him/his)

[whatlightdoes]

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Singing "In a Week" with Shevaun. One of my favorite songs.

[beguines]

Frank Bidart, from "To the Dead"

[delcisco]

Mamdani’s speech for America’s 250th takes direct aim at MAGA bigotry

We see the wealthiest country in the history of the world — one where children go to sleep hungry while the world’s first trillionaire hungers for more. We see monopolies that dominate every industry and oligarchs who buy elections. We see masked agents terrorizing our streets, eating food cooked by our undocumented neighbors before spiriting them away in unmarked vans. We see a nation whose immense wealth has been built by those with calloused, dirt-streaked hands — those who toil on factory floors and chisel into stone. And we see a nation that has allowed so much of that wealth to be held instead in the soft hands of a precious few.

[whatlightdoes]

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Another version. Added a few instruments and changed a few things. Still need to redo voice.

[whatlightdoes]

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Another rough version of this song. Just working out some arrangement ideas. Need to re-record bass, guitar, vocals. Probably need to redo everything. But a good placeholder for now.

[whatlightdoes]

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Same as previous post but I added a few more voices. I tried to make my voice sound more feminine for some of the higher parts.

[whatlightdoes]

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One of the four sketches I made today. It's pretty rough, but is a good placeholder.

[whatlightdoes]

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Another atmospheric sort of thing. These are very rough sketches where I'm trying to find interesting bits to eventually put into a song. The words are mumbles to decipher later.

[whatlightdoes]

atmospheric sketch

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I’m mostly mumbling in this. Exploring atmosphere. Will eventually “decode” the words.

[whatlightdoes]

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I've been trying to write at least one song sketch per day. Sometimes it's several. This is today's sketch. These aren't full songs. More like placeholders.

[seemoreandmore]

How swiftly the strained honey

of afternoon light

flows into darkness

and the closed bud shrugs off

its special mystery

in order to break into blossom

as if what exists, exists

so that it can be lost

and become precious

- Lisel Mueller / In Passing

[black-white-and-leather]

[derangedrhythms]

It is the haunted who haunt.

Elizabeth Bowen, Chill Tidings: Dark Tales of the Christmas Season; from ‘Green Holly’, ed. Tanya Kirk

[sandmandaddy69]

[whatlightdoes]

Colored pencil and watercolor

[whatlightdoes]

Legion Stonehenge Drawing Paper

Derwent Inktense

Sakura and Finetec Watercolor

[vincekris]

Tereza Zelenkova