A strange world of my own (looking back to move forward)

I love crossmyheart. Like, really really love it.

I feel like I always say whatever I’ve made most recently is one of my favorite things I’ve ever made. But usually after some distance, I tend to feel otherwise; I can only see the flaws in what I did, the little things I hoped to accomplish that only I know but that I somehow feel everyone looking at or listening to the work notices instantly as a flaw.

But this time it’s different. I’m not sure if that means the work is actually stronger, or I’ve been doing this long enough that my relationship to artmaking has evolved, or maybe I’ve actually—gasp—learned to let go of expectations. But whatever’s going on: I’m here for it.

Sometimes when I go to bed, I put on my AirPods, queue up this album, and fall asleep listening to it. Not because it’s boring, but because it soothes me. If you’ve actually listened to it, that might sound bizarre. But for me it’s comforting, like a warm hug. I know I’m safe when I spin this record (right ‘round). That’s probably because it’s such a fully formed world entirely of my own making. It might be dark and strange and intense—but it’s mine.

The project kicked off with some, ahem, questionable speculation, shall we say. And, really, it was the perfect beginning. It set the tone, man.

As a remix album, I thought it was appropriate to lean into the idea of pop music videos as a vehicle for experimental art. And when I realized the sounds I had made could carry that approach, I went for it.

The crossmyheart video was amazingly fun to make, both filming it and editing it. I wrote a little bit about that—and had an AI write about it, which was kind of wild! I like using AI as a different pathway into my art. Not to create art, but as a tool to probe and investigate my work, my process, and my practice. It’s fascinating to consider art as data, and to have an AI break it down in those terms.

After all, my art is all about ideas. Ideas are a kind of data. So, feeding my ideas into an AI model only makes sense.

I also published the video for suspension (Michael Harren rework). This one makes use of some unused footage from the original a harras film—it’s a remix record, after all!—and also incorporates some new footage, which I filmed alongside the crossmyheart video shoot. The star of this piece, though, is Michael’s rework. It blows my original out of the water. But it also just does something different with the material. Where my original was noisy and distorted, Michael made it clear and rhythmic without sacrificing the existential dread. He used a different language to express the same idea. That’s remix, baby!

I curated a short series of stills from the suspension video—a brief sequence of five—because I wanted a way to present the work, separate from its sound and movement. Just the still images and the feeling of hanging in the void. It was also a practical way of exercising my editorial eye. Could I edit that four-minute work down to five still images and still retain its essence? I’ve come to think of editing as an artistic medium in its own right. It’s not exactly remix, but it can be. Remix adjacent, at least.

Another experiment was the video for when horses tread water (float wiTch). This one’s, as they say, a lot. Like, a lot-a lot. It took on a life of its own. There’s the video, plus an alternate mix called the liminal mix, and—finally—a third one titled just float wiTch (what happened to the rest of it? It’s confusing, but it also makes sense. Trust me). I also released that one as a single. Again, it’s that pop music thing, right? Have you seen how many variations pop stars release of things these days? Maybe I didn’t do enough…

I also did some experiments with short-form videos along the way. These weren’t just excerpts from the original videos. They were short, micro pieces conceived to stand on their own. I wrote about this on the blog, so that’s something else you can check out.

Not to mention the physical editions. The CDs and cassettes aren’t just physical media; they’re artist multiples, designed by yours truly. The cassette even has an exclusive cover!

And then there’s the new book. In a way, it brings the whole project back to where it started. float wiTch 浮遊 returns to the same strange territory that set all of this in motion more than two decades ago, but from a completely different vantage point. Same ideas, different time, different context. It’s a way of looking backward without really going backward—and maybe that’s what this whole project has been about.

Thinking about all these things, I’m kinda floored. Not just because there are so many things, but because of what they tell me about where I am now. There was a time not too long ago when I felt like making things was hopeless. Coordinating a project like this, with so many moving parts, felt like part of my past, not my future. It’s encouraging not only to move past that, but also to prove oneself wrong. And to feel stronger because of it.

This strange a harras / crossmyheart world I’ve built is all mine; it first sprang forth over 25 years ago. I didn’t know then that those seeds would grow into something I would not only feel proud of, but eventually recognize as one of my defining statements.

But this time I don’t feel like it was a one-off. Instead, I feel challenged, empowered, and emboldened to discover what other strange new places my work might inhabit. I can’t wait to see how I one-up myself next time, whether that’s next year or decades from now. I feel sure it will happen. And it will surprise me. And hopefully you.

Maybe you’ll even be able to fall asleep to it.