Music

Ambient Munchies is from The Floating Market Beat Tape, a collection of instrumentals shaped by the experiences, observations, sounds, and peculiar little moments of my life in Thailand. This one is dedicated to the mysterious version of yourself who apparently has access to the kitchen after you've gone to sleep. You wake up the next morning and something is different. A cabinet is open. Something that definitely existed yesterday has vanished. There may be crumbs. There may be wrappers. There are questions. The beat came from that peculiar territory between sleeping and waking, where memory gets unreliable and apparently appetite does not. Part ambient drift, part midnight snack run, Ambient Munchies is the soundtrack to discovering that your nocturnal alter ego has been making executive decisions without you.

Morning Swimmer Innerlewd is from The Floating Market Beat Tape, a collection of instrumentals shaped by my experiences and everyday life in Thailand. This one came from a little morning ritual I developed: Moroccan hash, followed by a swim before the day really started. There was something about getting into the water with the hash still lingering in my system that changed the experience. Time loosened up. Thoughts wandered. Sounds softened. The movement of the water became more noticeable, and swimming became less about exercise and more about floating somewhere between meditation and being pleasantly lost for a while. The beat carries that feeling: warm, hazy, unhurried, and slightly altered, suspended somewhere between waking up and deciding to participate in the day. Morning Swimmer Innerlewd is a small snapshot of those mornings.

The Shape of Leaving came from thinking about departure as something that begins before you actually go. Sometimes a place starts becoming a memory while you're still standing in it. Part of *The Floating Market Beat Tape*, the instrumental sits somewhere between movement and reflection, carrying that strange feeling of looking forward while already looking back. Maybe leaving isn't a moment. Maybe it has a shape.

Lluvia began with the sound of rain during my first week in Hua Hin. I captured the field recording while everything around me still felt new and unfamiliar, and the sound stayed with me long after the storm had passed. Rain has always felt like a kind of beginning to me. It washes over a place, changes its rhythm, and leaves something slightly different behind. Arriving somewhere new, I found myself drawn to that feeling even more. I built Lluvia around that recording, allowing the rain to become part of the composition rather than simply a backdrop. The music moves with it, creating a quiet meditation on change, renewal, and the strange beauty of beginning again. Lluvia (Pluvio Meditation) is a small document of that moment: a new place, a passing storm, and the feeling that something else was beginning.

Plumeria began with the tree growing beside the pool. I would watch its flowers fall quietly onto the ground and water, sometimes still beautiful and seemingly perfect even after they had let go. There was something about that simple cycle that kept drawing my attention. The flowers reminded me of love and life, how something can be beautiful without being permanent, and how letting go doesn't erase what came before. The field recordings capture the tropical environment surrounding that tree: birds, water, and the small sounds of life continuing around it. I built the music from that atmosphere, allowing those sounds to become part of the composition rather than simply a backdrop. Plumeria is a meditation on love, impermanence, and the beauty of being here while we are here. Like the flowers beside the pool, some things don't have to last forever to leave something behind.

Kunyaza began with an unexpected evening shared with two beautiful women. What stayed with me wasn't simply the intimacy of the experience, but the exchange between three people: attraction, trust, curiosity, and the strange fluidity that happens when everyone is completely present in a moment. The title comes from Kunyaza, an African tradition of intimacy centered on female pleasure. I became interested in the idea of pleasure as something less about taking and more about attention, rhythm, generosity, and response. The field recording came later: a fountain continuously overflowing into a pool. The connection felt almost too perfect. Water moving into water, abundance spilling beyond its edges, one movement creating another. I built the music around that flow. Kunyaza (Tantra Meditation) is my memory of that encounter translated rather than retold: three energies, shared space, water in motion, and the beautiful possibility of having more than enough to give.

Some recordings stay with you long after you've left a place. I captured these field recordings in Ensenada, Mexico, during 2024, not with the intention of building a song, but to document the atmosphere around me. The birds, distant dogs, wind, and the quieter details of the landscape became part of a collection of sounds that I kept returning to. This piece grew from those recordings. Rather than using the field recordings as background, I built a live session around them, letting the environment shape the music instead of the other way around. The result is part ambient composition, part travel journal, and part snapshot of a specific place and time. I enjoy working this way because every location has its own rhythm. Recording the environment and responding to it musically feels more honest than trying to recreate it later. Each project becomes a document of where I was, what I heard, and how that place influenced the music in the moment.