Here is another new piece. This one is meant to be very loud and powerful, so crank up your volume on this one! See it if means anything. It does to me.
This song is just a pleasant little digression. Enjoy if you can.
Here are two more compositions. The first is a hard-hitting thing I call, “Four Rooms,” or, sometimes, “Four Conversations,” and the second is one of the saddest songs I ever wrote. I call it, “When You Are Old.” I couldn’t ever write words to it, beyond, “When you are old, and lie next to me, and your skin is cold, I’ll take your hand, I’ll hold you tightly, wishing you’d carry me into the sunset with you.” Hope you like them.
New songs. First a march, in case you have found a cause (and who hasn’t these days) to march for or against. And second, one to calm your soul and get you back home in peace. Have fun for a couple minutes.
Many years ago I wrote a novel called Miracavira, an enchanted land where I ended up under bizarre circumstances. When I was tragically whisked away, back to earth, I left behind a very sad situation that only I could fix. Maricie, a love interest in Miracavira, was given a song to sing that would bring me back from across the divide. It’s a picture of the tragedy, and it goes like this:
Here are the latest couple pieces of music from my imagination. Enjoy!
A couple short pieces. I’m especially fond of 201. The little bass rumble does it for me.
I don’t know what my life might have been like if I’d been able to make music like this when I was a kid listening to Tchaikovsky and Beethoven and Brahms. I couldn’t imagine sitting at a computer and getting sounds like this, even though it is generally less esthetically pleasing than a real orchestra. I have no training in music, but if I could have done this, I might have dived into a music major.
To Start Autumn. Both written in the last month. If you like them, tell me generally where you are. Thank you for listening!