The newest, Virtues of the Impossible, is a small group of quiet songs meant to be a bit contemplative in the face of strange and dangerous times, with five new short piano pieces at its center.   The tracks are:

1. VITUES OF THE IMPOSSIBLE - on thinking about what is lost if we deny who we are

2. WALKING ON THE BREEZE - watching the amazing insects of summer

3. HEAT OF THE DAY - in the hot, dry valley



10. CIRCULAR REASONING - slightly ambiguous ramblings

11. BEARS - our friends moving through the forest

12. THE LOST MAN - circling back around to ones self

13. IN THE TREES - the old growth, like nowhere else

14. LULLABY - goodnight

15. LAMENT - for a lost love

16. J&J - addendum: respect for two great guitarists, John Scofield and John McLaughlin

       Retrospect is a collection of older songs that have lain dormant for a few years and also some new stuff. Check out "2016" (below), a little rumination on the world at large..(lyrics below)

       Hieroglyphs, recorded over a period of a few years in the late '90's, is a collection of songs and minimalist ruminations, mostly on guitar and piano. 

      Music for the Inside Eye is a set of recordings, originally released in 1990, that wanders a rather personal landscape of political and emotional thoughts from the decade before.

       Updates from older and newer recordings below... 

Please click on links to listen, and if you'd like to buy a CD, please click here. To buy tracks from the CDs RETROSPECT or VIRTUES OF THE IMPOSSIBLE click here.

landscape #90
wash your hands in the water
walking on the breeze
DeVisee Passacaille


 So here we are fighting the Civil War again

and the Tea Party is handing out tea with arsenic in it

there’s a big ‘ol horse race, but there don’t seem to be any horses

and you wonder what the truth is and who’s going to spin it

 And the talk talk talk is more venal than ever

bright angry faces light up the glowing screens

there’s always a message, but lately it’s a little less hidden from view

You'd better be afraid of somebody, it doesn't really matter much who


 And it’s all driven by so much bad money it makes your head spin

the banks are soulless beasts that have swallowed the world  

and the wheels on the bus go round and round

but where it’s taking us nobody’s really sure

 And it’s all so appallingly fake you think it must be some kind of satire

is there really anybody who buys all this stuff?

the ghost of 1929 looms out of the fog

and the little Monopoly man tips his hat and he shuffles off


 And everything you say and everything you do is being stored in a database somewhere

the idea of privacy just went up in smoke

there’s an eye peering at you from a bump in the ceiling

and that stuff about “land of the free” seems a bit of a joke

 You go looking for a job, and they go looking in your closet

you got to pay in blood just to get minimum wage

you want an education? well, that’s just for rich folks now

and there’s an air of  grim desperation about the schoolkids these days


 And everybody’s good nature seems a little drained away

standing in the vast parking lot in the heat of the day

putting up straw heroes just to catch the wind

and waving our little flags in the faces of our friends

 And you wonder why you feel so lost in such a familiar place

there’s really no reason why your heart should be racing so fast

it’s just that there’s only so much time left to take care of things

and we’ve overrun the place, and we keep repeating the past

repeating the past, repeating the past

copyright Dana Westover 2015