what is this
pyramid blue
sacred bones of the milky whey
and then suddenly, you realize you’re bleeding
i have to admit that i have regrets
those boys i’ve lost
the boy in me lost
the algebra knocks loose the debris
there is no more spiritual bypassing
cypress beams and rafters of acacia dismantled
incense persists
beckons and bellows
what is this
pyramid blue
sacred bones of the milky whey
and then suddenly, you realize you’re bleeding
the Odyssey Overture
Such a sweet friend this song is! My new single, Odyssey Overture, is now available for download and streaming on all digital platforms!
The song was produced by Calvin Venus, and features some of my favorite artist from all over the Houston area!
Pete + Purdue
I think it all started back whenever MRYM and I were having a conversation (or argument) about the simplicity of modern art.
I’d commented at the time about how I believe that simple paintings like white squares, simples lines down the page, or splatters on the canvas were not proper demonstrations of talent. She was quick to correct my understanding of this.
Over the last couple of years, this idea has rolled around in my head, and I’ve wondered: “What does a “white square canvas” look like in terms of my own art.
Then enters Pete + Purdue.
Pete + Purdue is the latest album that I’ve produced that features simple sonic landscapes that can sit in the background while the rest of the world passes by. Performed by the pianist duo, Pete + Purdue is a news story, a path, inside the same universe as TIE.
The latest release is now available on all streaming and download platforms!
Stay tuned for more from Pete + Purdue!
Removed and Replaced Tiles
Throughout my time, I’ve encountered many compelling images that have transfixed my gaze, and taken me into the worlds that I’ve often spoken about in the songs.
Since 2019 a support pillar of the dividing wall between my living room and the kitchen has been home to the image that accompanies this entry. Recently it was removed and replaced by new imagery.
Previously whenever glyph-like structures like these would appear in TIE, I would have recorded them, and obsessed over them relentlessly—analyzing them for their meaning—wondering why these images would come together the way they have: like pieces of a puzzle.
I believe that this is probably the third time that this type of thing has happened. Each iteration is less impactful than it was before but no less meaningful or important to my practice.
As I removed these images from the wall to prepare the room for the next, I thought it was time to preserve them digitally so that I can remember where the artist was in 2019:
“After the destruction of the vessel, an evacuation was necessary. The course was charted to a nearby planet mistaken for the earth. Upon crash landing, I would meet new friends at the Venusian landscape that would incubate the song, preserve my dreams, and help me restore my vessel unto it’s newly resurrected mission”.
For more on the tiles of times past, see the following images:
New Logo
I think it’s time to talk about the new logo;
In 2013, whenever I release Aquarian Floods & Campaign One; I didn’t realize that I would be creating a logo out the handwriting that I quickly wrote out while working on a Saturday. Release after release, it would prove to become the standard presentation of my pseudonym.
In 2017, after releasing the Words & Music it was it was sealed into the canon of my work. I started printing shirts, sticker, and other merch all including the handwritten logo.
However, with the turn of this year, I believe the time has come to change. After a few months of deliberation, the new logo is as follows:
I believe that it pays homage to the first iteration of TIE, back whenever I was using standard templates on Blogspot. Speaking of TIE, there will also be more use of the acronym in my marketing.
I think it’s fair to say that this marks the beginning of something new—2022 has so much in store musically and artistically.
In other news, I got these fighting chickens to hang in my kitchen, and I’m quite proud of myself.
Space Illusions & Fiddle Leaf Records
I dreamed of strange and worrisome things.
Fallen leaves from my fiddle leaf fig. I collected them in a specialized tray that held them on their sides. Large green leaves with brown stacked and aligned like plates in a drying rack after a wash. As the leaves would fall I would collect them; they each resonated some sort of task—some sort of right of passage—some sort of measurement of detail needed, so they could be referenced or sourced via some machine or arm like on a record player or in a hard drive.
The the cast would change, and it’s as though it’s hours later in reality; I’m in a new space.
It’s really space. The same space you would see in science textbooks in the ’90s. It would show you classic images from the Voyager II mission: images of renown. I was floating or was I suspended: held and cradled in the hands of a feminine creator, like a mother. I saw Neptune in its classic image, and I swatted at it with my hand. It made the same sound as a Voit playground ball would as it was kicked across the field. I watched as it dangled back and forth, its stillness violently interrupted as it’s tiny moons quickly orbited the cerulean sphere.
I saw men as they traversed through space. It revealed the blackness of space like the dark water of an 8 ball. The astronauts would seem to emerge from the darkness like that of the blue polygon revealing the answer to your questions. I was able to reach and grab the astronaut as he tumbles through space. My reaching revealed him to a figurine or a model of dense foam slightly bigger than two feet.
I was filled will fear—I was filled with a complex bewildered shame of what I’d seen and touched. Then in my anticipation, I saw from the bottom of my vision a rising monochromatic red Jupiter. I feared what I would learn of it.
