#002
Lately, I've been diving into different parts of my job that don't involve songwriting. The switch in mindset takes some getting used to, but moving into the next phase of releasing my album has made me realize how grateful I am for the time I spent creating. Almost all of it came together last December when I was still living in Georgia with two long-time friends of mine. Rent was cheap, so I had the freedom to focus solely on my art and reading books that kept the process exciting. It was nice having a whole month to isolate from any pressure I'd get from being online too much. I was writing a song or more every day, and it was a brief moment in time where I truly felt like that was more than enough. There's usually some ghost in the room with me saying it's not.
Moving to Philadelphia was a significant change, not because of a lack of experience living in a city, but because of a massive shift in responsibility. I wasn't just taking on more financial burden; I'm also still in the process of finding new friends and activities I like to do so I'm not falling into my usual trap of extreme solitude. While it is valuable for the art-making process, I've read often that what you learn can't truly be put into practice without community. I made a lot of excuses that I needed to finish the album first, but now that it's done, I'm making more of an effort to be out and enjoy how walkable Philly is, how charismatic the people are, and how much I can immerse myself in conversation.
I finished writing and mixing the record around the end of March and started brainstorming titles by flipping through my old book notes. The process actually started well before I went on tour last year when I came across the book 'House of Leaves.' I was drawn to the themes of liminal space considering how much of a transition period I was going through myself. I was always looking for familiarity because it seemed like the only safety in a world that is so cold and unpredictable. I found myself revisiting the existential themes from my first album 'Contra' but with more understanding of where all the emptiness was coming from. At times, I think it was my subconscious warning me that the success I was about to come into would mean surrounding myself with events and people that would ultimately ruin my creative spirit. I was about to see how unsafe and unreliable the music industry can be. I was going to see how hard I would have to fight to maintain my joy of creation and sharing with people who genuinely care.
In all my reading, I would eventually stumble into the concept of "Ukiyo" (Floating Worlds) in "The Ritual Process, Structure, and Anti-Structure" by Victor Turner. The term refers to the transient and unreliable nature of life, which felt like a perfect description of what was causing me so much grief these last few years, even beyond my music journey. When I went online for more info, I was interested to see that before the word shifted into a description of a more hedonistic artistic style, it was a description of this unfulfilling loop Buddhist monks sought to break out of.
My album 'Floating Worlds' is an exploration I may not have been mature enough to understand when I made my debut. My questions back then led me to emptiness and a lack of trust in my surroundings, and while I could argue I have even less to believe in now with even more experience, I've also learned that my perspective is a new decision to make in every moment. I am constantly changing as much as the rest of the world is. I can keep redefining what gives me purpose. I can find joy in familiarity while also seeing the unknown as an invitation to more growth and eventual comfort. I can't always understand or control things, but I can always find new ways to enjoy my experience—my opportunity to perceive in the first place.
The first single is out at midnight, and it's a very simple expression of choosing joy when I needed it most. There’s no judgement to make beyond what I created. I went after a very specific feeling. That’s all I say about it and expect from the process.
