The creative process is a curious thing. It is often unique for each artist. The constant of all art is that it is composed of positive and negative space. No matter how an individual artist approaches the creative process, that one thing is a constant. It doesn't matter whether it is music, visual art, or the written word, all art relies as much on the negative space as it does on the positive space. It's a very yin/yang sort of thing. Even the computer must create everything with only zeros and ones. In point of fact, all art is nothing more than an assemblage of zeros and ones.

    I write poetry and prose, some lyrical and some not so lyrical. None of the compositions included on this LP have lyrics, however, Candle Explored [waves] does have words which I wrote after the fact when I was editing the music video. The words express the idea that a candle is like a living thing in that it has a limited, finite lifespan.

Candle Explored [waves]

we stand in the candle’s glow
and we cast our shadow
but the candle flame has no shadow

add light to light
and we have no evidence

block the light
and the darkness proves the light

in light upon light
we must draw upon faith
for darkness proves the light
darkness proves the light
darkness proves the light

add darkness to darkness
and we have no evidence

light the darkness
and the light proves the darkness

in darkness upon darkness
we must draw upon faith
for the light proves the darkness
light proves the darkness
light proves the darkness

darkness proves the light
light proves the darkness

darkness proves the light
light proves the darkness

darkness proves the light
light proves the darkness
in light upon light
we must draw upon faith
in darkness upon darkness
we must draw upon faith

darkness proves the light
light proves the darkness

darkness proves the light
light proves the darkness

the candle flame cannot prove the light
for the candle flame is the light
in the darkness

    Ember and Ash is less of a band, and more of an artistic construct. The original idea was to have a repository for unreleased or unfinished remnants of songs. I am a visual artist with an ear for music, but I don’t actually play any instrument. I was gifted a midi keyboard and multi-track music editing software which allowed me to begin making additions to the remnant compositions by the other two members of E&A, my son Christopher Ryan Hunter, and my friend, David Carr, Jr. In time, after familiarizing myself with the hardware and software, I began to create my own compositions.

    I call these compositions “Hand-Crafted Audio Designs,” rather than songs. As I mentioned earlier, I am a visual artist, primarily a graphic designer, but also a photographer, video editor, painter, and writer as well. In the 70s, when my mom tried to teach me piano and my brother tried to teach me guitar, while I had the ear for music, I didn't have the patience to learn the craft. I could pick out a melody on the piano, but the redundancy required to develop the muscle memory for playing an instrument was just too much to ask. And besides, we already had plenty of musicians in the family. But now, with a computer, I can illustrate the music. I can create patterns, listen, and then redraw as necessary until it sounds right to my ear. So, I play a melody or simple chord progression and then bring up the key editor and reshape the notes visually. I finally have a process to compose and perform music that makes sense to me.

    Some of my compositions illustrate a theme, or perspective, while some are simply regimented abstraction. I say regimented because pure abstraction in sound is just chaotic noise, and while I can appreciate experimental music, I have no interest in creating it... or subjecting anyone else to it. So, while there may not always be a story, there will always be a pattern, some measure of order. I love most all art, and can appreciate some art that I do not love, but no one can live an absolute existence, and I have no doubt that not everyone will appreciate my compositions. That's fine. I want people to hear these compositions. I want people to appreciate, and perhaps even like them, but as with all art, it is purely subjective. Art is created because the artist is compelled to create, but if art is not experienced by someone other than the artist once it is created, it has only served part of its purpose. The final life of the art is in the wild. Art must be set free. If art is held captive, it is a wasted thing.

    When I begin to compose, I rarely have any idea of where I am headed with the composition. It may begin with a melody, but most often not. It may begin with an ambient sound, and then a beat is added. Frequently though, it begins with a beat concept. Not an actual beat, but just an inkling of some beat pattern, and then it evolves from there. And I see the pattern, more than I hear it. I have some measure of synesthesia. It is not debilitating, but I have always seen sound, especially music as patterns and colors. What I have learned in pursuing this new creative form of expression is that the translation of sound to visual and visual to sound are not the same in the machine. If I were to vocalize the sound I hear when I perceive something visually, I am sure the translation would be equivalent one to the other. But the computer software is not a translator based in synesthesia. The computer software is a tool to generate sound based on music theory; on the mathematics of music. So this crossed circuitry of synesthesia cannot be expressed, especially since it would be at a different measure with each person who experiences the phenomenon.

    The titles of my compositions are random, at least in the beginning. If I have some idea of the direction I intend for the composition, the title may reflect that, but once the composition begins to take shape, the title may have no relevance to it. Relevance is subjective anyway. My favorite artist is the surrealist painter René Magritte. When I first read his quote, “The object never serves the same purpose as its image or its name,” the skies opened before me and the nonsense of the world made sense. An object is the object. The image or sound or descriptive word is not the object. So, no subject matter is relevant to the title it is given. That is not to say that you can't write a song about a tragic love break-up and call it, “My Broken Heart.” But you can title it, “The Big Red Truck,” if you like. It doesn't matter. I guess my point is, don't look too deep into my compositions for meaning. There may be no meaning there to find.

    What an artist thinks and feels influences what is created, but the artist is not creating in a vacuum. The art may express a specific thought or feeling, but any art created is wholly unique, influenced and shaped by the world around the artist, influenced and shaped by every little aspect of the artist’s environment, as much creating the artist as the artist creates the art. The evolution of the artist, the passage of time and accumulated experience, but even the light, temperature, sound or silence, smells; everything affects and effects the artist and the art. It is Heisenberg’s principle of uncertainty applied as a philosophical stance on art and life. Nothing can be known in its entirety because perception, viewing a thing, changes the event or thing to fit the personal perspective. A single point on a mirror holds an infinite number of viewpoints specific to the perspective of the viewer. We exist in an infinite number of possibilities for every single moment based on our individual perspectives. It is however not chaos, and it is not random, but it is infinitely indeterminate.

John Lee Hunter