4 April 2026
When I say artist, I mean everything I create—music, isual art, curating, and environment that hold these practices.
I see myself as a practitioner/a student, and a vessel. I did not create anything—everything existed long before me; piano, rhythm, tonality, songs, harmony, cadence, melody, style, everything.
But I can blend my influences to create my own.
I filter and mix what I have received as inspiration. I let them come down through me, and so my work is to maintain openness, and keep the filter as clean so I can receive.
What comes out is the purest form of creative energy - often come out of anger, frustration, guilt, sadness, anxiety and all the trauma and emotions that haunts me over the years, but this thing called 'music' and 'creation' are colourful and so rich in emotions, that I have to be so grateful to know I am able to give birth this way.
Art and music also grounds me when I can not. It's my core, my nurturer and a form of meditation with capacity to transmit soul.
The labor happens long before the showcase: vulnerability, openness, shaping, questioning, refining, discussion, listening, thinking, feeling—trying, failing, and trying again. What the audience sees is only the final moment of a process that takes years and makes up most of the work.
This is why my work includes presenting process and experiment—not rehearsal, not a show, but the in-between, the most alive and definite part of artform being nurtured, before being packaged. We are more than a show.
Jazz is not only performance; it lives within an ecosystem of people who sustain it, often beyond what is visible on stage. In today’s market-driven landscape, this process is often overlooked.
I approach jazz as Black American music, an American Classic Music—rooted in Black Church, lived experience, and community that incubated this music to thrive. I am a practiioner who learns the traditional way of this music, and liberate myself through the knowledge. It's the entry point of my creative approach to music, but also has become my way of life, to study and practice it.
Through jazz, I am learning not only about the sound, but also etiquette—how to listen, respond, support others, and carry myself within a community, and all to express freedom. What moves me most is the openness of this 'space' anyone who comes with intention is welcomed.
In Detroit, the way jazz is perceived reminds me of Japanese practices like Sadō or Kadō—a way of life shaped through daily practice and presence. I am very fortunate to have found my 'way' of life, and how it let me.
As an improviser and visual artist, I allow myself maximum freedom. It is still a work in progress, but both practices express what I can not express with words. I am fully aware of my constrains.
In a world increasingly divided by noise and hatred, my work of 'creating happily' is an act of resistance - a peace-building, and a suggestion to feel more, dig deeper, and express as close to the way I want as possible. If we artists can make more people welcome to experiment and express, I think that is a great work.
Let's make our artistic fantasy come alive.