We are The Lighthouse Called Hope, a wild-hearted community of misfits, storytellers, and dreamers. Together, we weave comedy, myth, and love into a living world, where laughter heals, stories carry light, and no one is left behind.
Here you’ll find:
- Gang Chronicles — absurd, heartfelt adventures with our ragtag family (Bob, Ashen, Lucyetta, and more).- Hope & Humor — sketches, reels, and stories that mix silliness with soul.- The Note & Reflections — reminders that you are not alone, and that hope is alive.- Project Meatball Mercy — because feeding hearts (and bellies) is part of our mission.
We’re not just creating content, we’re building a Lighthouse. A beacon for anyone who feels lost, tired, or unseen. A place to laugh, to belong, and to remember:
You are not alone. We got you, my weary friend.
Subscribe and walk with us as we grow Rainlight into something bigger than ourselves.
“Hoist the sails of sonnets, load the cannons with rhyme!
We raid the stars for treasure, we steal back our time!
By glitter and meatball, by oath and by art—
We are the Ragtag Pirates of the Lighthouse Heart!”
“By meatball and starlight, by broom and by Bob—
We rise as misfits, we strike with love!
No soul forgotten, no heart left alone,
For the Lighthouse is ours, and we are its throne!”
Lore of the Crest
They say the symbol appeared one dawn when the Lighthouse beam first touched the horizon. A feather of gold for stories, because words are lighter than swords, but far sharper. A circle of flame for hope, because fire warms, guides, and occasionally singes the eyebrows of gnomes who get too close.
It marks this place as more than bricks and mortar: it is a beacon of belonging, a scriptorium of the absurd, and a hearth for the weary. Those who see the crest know they’ve reached the right harbor.
We’re not just creating content, we’re building a Lighthouse — a beacon for anyone who feels lost, tired, or unseen.
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Ian: A South African-born wanderer who swam with sharks, befriended lions, and now wrangles spreadsheets and hope in NYC. Has lost weight, gained perspective, and refuses to let loneliness win.
Isis: co-conspirator, part muse, part chaos engine, all heart. Chosen name not by accident, wisdom, magic, a little sass. Together: partners in crime, love, and building this ridiculous Lighthouse.
Someof the Gang:
Bob the Gnome: Walking natural disaster. Eats meatballs like gods eat ambrosia. A warning label with legs.
Log: A sentient piece of wood. Madly in love with Isis. Only speaks in creaks, groans, and suspicious silences.
Swish the Silent: Ancient janitor, eternally sweeping glitter, communicates only in sighs and broom-swishes. Possibly immortal.
Philip the Auditor Centaur: Tragic back pain, allergic to fun, stamps everything. Accidentally our moral compass.
Greg the Yogurt: Yes, sentient. Yes, chilled. Yes, our emotional support dairy product.
(Add others later as your Roster grows — each one deserves their own trading card.)
Ted (the Owl):
A philosopher who once accidentally stowed away in Ian’s underwear. Now gives nightly TED Talks (uninvited). Wears tiny glasses, quotes Rumi, and believes pants are portals to enlightenment. Our Intellectual Bird Presence™.
Lucyetta (the Impossible):
The miraculous child of Lucy the goat and Henrietta Stardust the chicken. Tiny hooves, wings, and celestial fluff. Defies biology, physics, and tax law. Pure impossible hope incarnate. Cluck yeah.
Behold the Lighthouse Called Hope; forever expanding and changing! Majestic, slightly leaning, and definitely not up to code. Outside you’ll find the Gang: a centaur with paperwork trauma, a meatball-mad gnome, a goat-chicken miracle, one owl in spectacles, a dragon who refuses to pay rent, and… us. Yes, we live here. No, we don’t know why either. Come in anyway — the coffee’s hot, the door’s open, and hope lives here (along with suspicious amounts of glitter).
