Friday, December 29, 2017
Friday, December 22, 2017
Monday, December 18, 2017
Monday, December 11, 2017
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Friday, November 24, 2017
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Friday, November 10, 2017
Thursday, November 9, 2017
After Space: A Round of Yorkshire Gold
It's funny how a round of Yorkshire Gold would bring back the songwriting. Still tentatively titled, mind you. pic.twitter.com/4B1yLyIYkn— Leonard Lacking (@leonardlacking) November 10, 2017
THE STARS RESUME THEIR DANCE.* THANK GOODNESS.
*CLICK HERE TO READ ABOUT THEIR PREVIOUS STATE.
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Friday, October 27, 2017
Friday, October 20, 2017
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Friday, October 6, 2017
Sunday, October 1, 2017
The Space, The Wait of a Written Song
On such a run of songwriting, I was. For months those heavenly bodies dip-danced beyond my window to the tune of the constant ticking in my head of some song being nurtured. Unhurried as the stars that seemingly sit but are not seen come morning, my writing process is a slow one, and thus often relegates a song to dwell beautifully in the back of my mind. Somewhere. Certain. Willing. Teasing. Ticking.
After Wednesday’s end came the day when I had to release myself from songwriting. Why? To keep space clear and away from some attentive listening I looked forward to. To really listen to something is to absorb it, inevitably. And there exists a fear of influences affecting the writing. There are only so many melodies to be made, after all. So the clearance sought was necessary. Stars are seen as glorious not only by their light, but also by the space between them.
Then there was the following day. So came the unease. The emptiness of no effort in song, recognized, and the heavens rolled by with no sound. That ticking in my mind was indeed found to be fulfilling. Without it? Dread.
Oh to listen to another’s ticks!
But I am loyal.
Ill as I am without you, to my muse I say, “Wait for me. Soon the stars will dance again to our song.”
Friday, September 29, 2017
Friday, September 22, 2017
Friday, September 15, 2017
Sunday, September 10, 2017
Friday, September 1, 2017
Monday, August 28, 2017
Friday, August 18, 2017
Thursday, August 10, 2017
Friday, August 4, 2017
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Friday, July 28, 2017
Monday, July 24, 2017
Friday, July 14, 2017
Friday, July 7, 2017
Saturday, July 1, 2017
Saturday, June 24, 2017
Friday, June 16, 2017
Friday, June 9, 2017
Friday, June 2, 2017
Saturday, May 27, 2017
Monday, May 22, 2017
Friday, May 12, 2017
Friday, May 5, 2017
Friday, April 28, 2017
Friday, April 21, 2017
Monday, April 17, 2017
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Lost a Tree
Earlier today, lost that front yard tree.
The grind of an electric axe screeched through my bedroom window, and I thought it too close to hail from a neighbor's place. I was right. Awoke. Looked out the window. There--where heavenly congregations of dark-eyed juncos used to sit-sing grace--an empty space. What once was a hallowed perch now lined the street curb in chop measured pieces of 3 piles slain.
The grind of an electric axe screeched through my bedroom window, and I thought it too close to hail from a neighbor's place. I was right. Awoke. Looked out the window. There--where heavenly congregations of dark-eyed juncos used to sit-sing grace--an empty space. What once was a hallowed perch now lined the street curb in chop measured pieces of 3 piles slain.
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Sunday, February 12, 2017
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Friday, January 27, 2017
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