harmonia's dream
Back in April 2023, I stumbled upon a song that would quietly but profoundly change the way I think about my life, my inspirations, and the way I see the world. The song is 'Harmonia’s Dream' by The War on Drugs, and it came to me through the pre-loaded, in-house music system at my job in Dr. Martens. From that first encounter, the song's rich soundscape captured me, opening a door to feelings and possibilities that over time, have become central to my life and art practice. It has also become my most listened to song of all time - my number one song on Spotify Wrapped 2023 and 2024, with a combined total of 300+ streams across those two years. I really, really like this song.
The texture of the song is otherworldly, yet deeply grounded. There’s a propulsive, chugging rhythm that feels like a heartbeat, intertwined with shimmering synths and soaring, swirling guitars that evoke a sense of motion - a journey unfolding out in front of you in a half-remembered dream. Expansive but intimate, it has struck something within me in a way few pieces of music ever have. Listening to it feels like stepping into a dream.
What makes 'Harmonia’s Dream' even more special is how much it reminds me of the music my mam introduced me to when I was younger (in this instance think Deacon Blue, Tom Petty, Dire Straits & Bryan Adams). Growing up, music was a constant presence, mostly experienced in the car in the morning on the way to school. This soundtrack to everyday life shaped so much of who I am. My mam does have objectively great taste in music, but she did also encourage us to embrace music fully and unapologetically. She showed us that there’s no need to limit oneself to liking just one genre and that there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure. You like what you like, and that’s enough. That sense of freedom and openness to all kinds of music has been deeply influential in my artistic and creative endeavours too, helping me believe that anything I care about or am interested in is enough. For me, 'Harmonia’s Dream' feels like an echo of that ethos. Its nostalgic element is powerful, conjuring memories of shared moments and the way music has always helped bridge a gap between emotion and expression in my own life.
Music, almost as much as visual art, has been a cornerstone of my identity. It’s helped me navigate both highs and lows, providing solace, inspiration, and a sense of connection even in moments of solitude. I truly believe that music has shaped who I am, not just as an artist, but as a person. And this song seemed to find me at a time in my life when I needed it most.
The repetition of that cutting line "you’re on your own" is stark but empowering. It has served as a reminder that loneliness is no weakness - it’s a part of human experience, something that can build strength and resilience. That line resonates deeply with me, often encouraging me to embrace both my own independence in life, and a clarity that can come from standing alone - especially during a time in my life when I was living alone for the first time. Another important line, "sometimes forwards is the only way back," has also stayed with me. It’s a simple yet profound truth, and it connects to my evolving thoughts on dreams and memory. Dreams, like that lyric, often require us to move forward to unlock the meanings of the past, showing how progress and reflection are intertwined.
For years, my art practice has revolved around the theme of memory. I’ve explored how we carry our pasts, how personal history shapes identity, and the ways in which the act of remembering can itself be a creative process. My work has been intensely autobiographical - rooted in my own experiences, recollections, and emotions. But 'Harmonia’s Dream' has sparked my thinking around the idea of dreams as a counterpart to memory. Dreams, with their fluidity and surreal logic, offer a way of processing reality that isn’t tied to linear time or fixed narratives. They can be ephemeral yet impactful, elusive yet visceral.
The song’s soundscape seems to embody this very essence of dreaming. Its layers overlap and blur, creating a sense of both clarity and ambiguity. It’s a sonic experience that’s as much about feeling as it is about listening. And that’s what has inspired me: the idea of making work that looks like how this song sounds to me. I’ve started to think about how art can mimic the way dreams reshape and reinterpret our memories, turning the autobiographical into something more universal.
Since that first listen on the 14th April 2023, I’ve been slowly (and maybe even subconsciously) shifting the focus of my practice. Instead of delving into personal memory as a direct source, I’ve been exploring the shared language of dreams - how they distill emotions, fragment experiences, and blur the boundaries between reality and imagination. This shift has been liberating. It’s allowed me to begin moving beyond the confines of my own story and tap into something larger: the collective, intangible nature of human experience.
'Harmonia’s Dream' has also influenced the aesthetic of my work. The song’s lush, layered sound has inspired me to experiment with texture and layering in my art, inspiring the beginning of sculptural pieces that feel immersive and multifaceted. Just as the song unfolds with each listen, revealing new details and nuances, I want my art to invite viewers to look closer, to find something new each time they engage with what I might make.
This journey has been as much about transformation as inspiration. Dreams and memory both shape who we are, but dreams remind us that identity isn’t fixed - it’s malleable, ever-changing, and full of possibility. 'Harmonia’s Dream' has been a catalyst for this realisation, pushing me to rethink the themes of my work and embrace this new direction.
"Sometimes forwards is the only way back..."
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