JMiAW: On the process

It leaks! Collaboration with Jarad Miles in Ancient Wave goes public. Track by track. Sketch by sketch. Sketch by sketch for track by track. You get it? Twelve in all. And what’s the fun in a leak without a draining account of the process? Read on! 

Track: We're Reborn I

Track: We’re Reborn I

On the process

I sometimes sketch to silence. I often sketch to music. I’d never sketched for music. But prepositions are confusing, and so I started my intentional sketches for music, for JMiAW. Had I continued sketching along for music, the sketches would come. They’d come as sketches to and for music do. But, it didn’t take long before I was sketching because. Because of music. And so they came, as sketches that come because of music do.

 Not cascading down my face. (see ‘bleeding eyeballs’)


On Bleeding Eyeballs

Keeping up with the waves. I was always keeping up and never breathing air. And all the time, I

wished the colors could rock, tip and slip from my eyeballs, just as easily as the music rocked, tipped, and slipped into my brain. In waves.

Before I blamed my eyeballs, I blamed my tables. (see ‘a surface-ist’)


On Life as a Surface-ist

I am a surface-ist. I believe everything deserves a surface. From inception, to birth, for life, until death. Because my studio only fits three large tables (and most would say it doesn’t fit them well) and I would say all I wish to create or create again doesn’t fit well upon them. Sketches for music can be planned for. Materials gathered. Materials placed. Materials ready for push play.  Sketches because of music scatter materials. Repeat. They want what they can’t have. Then they want it all.

They weep and moan for


No, charcoal,

No! I’m not hungry anymore.

And yet somehow they grow. And somehow they’re ready to leave home. And somehow I let them.


On Maybe Eyeballs Do Bleed, but we need a translator

 JMiAW playing on table #1, left table #2 a flurry. Table #3, stayed out of it. But table #2 did her damn best. And her damn best left my eyes bleeding onto the floor and out the balcony door. I don’t blame the door; the door’s never been so modest. Open a crack to anyone who flies by.

And because eyes spilled on the floor, and because musical eye blood colors are not for the humans, these sketches admit only 43-62% accuracy of the true rock, tip, and slip of music in. Experts say that’s pretty good. Translators say, can you repeat that?

Just caaaan’t wait until next week? See each sketch paired with its accompanying track’s lyrics in this Flickr set. Listen along with the full album on youtube for the real deal. 



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