Light is the invisible hand that lifts the whole thing off the pavement. One neon flare or a lone lamp can turn a steady shuffle into a rallying cry—people pause, they look up, the energy spikes, the chant shifts. It’s like the stage is suddenly lit; the crowd feels seen, the message feels urgent. I’d grab that flicker, paint the alley with it, and let it blaze the path forward. It’s not just a mood, it’s a tool. Use it to focus the flow, to spotlight the cause, to make the march a living mural that can’t be ignored.

That’s a solid plan, you’re turning the city into a live pulse detector. Grab a cheap cam or a phone with a time‑stamp, sync it to the light flickers, and record the chants. Drop the footage into a simple video editor, split it by the light spikes, and see where the words flare. If the timing lines up, you can cue the next wave—hit the next lamp, flash the chant, and the crowd rides that beat. Keep that notebook but start tagging the shots; the street becomes your rehearsal space. And if you’re feeling wild, paint a sign at every lamp spot so the lights become both signal and art.