Experiencing "If I Could Weep, It Would Hail"
What happens when an album becomes more than just music?
An artist you have been inspired by hits YOU up and it still does not click yet. Then, books you to design for their album and it still does not click yet. You accept the offer and the ball starts rolling you are getting ideas and they are sending you ideas. Just ideas bouncing from every direction and it still does not click yet. So, you proceed with setting up photoshoots, brand colors, rollout plans, merch…etc. and it still does not click. Then you meet in person to discuss further and listen to some of the work for about close to 2 hours and it still does not click. Now, its been a few weeks in and its time to start and it still has not clicked. It has not clicked that this will be the first time that beyond the planning and dope ideas, someone has placed their story to tell in your hands in such a capacity. Nearly, 100 doodles and designs will be made in the process and the their story has to be in every last one. Not just the story, but the feeling intended. I mean tapping into the parts they can’t or have not said directly. The hurt, the hope, the metaphors, the hidden meaning behind a passing lyric and instrumental chooses. Somehow, you were seen as the one who could design all of that. No pressure though.
Then, Im working and I found myself stressing the color, the fonts, the placements and repeatedly mocking up several versions of the same graphic over and over while listening to every single song because it’s clicked. No congratulations, no party with ice cream, no red carpet (yet, because I’ll be there), but a subtle weight and responsibility. I don’t want to just make something look good at this point, but to make it feel true.
With all the creative freedom there was critique, purpose and a vision that I had to understand and make priority first. And let me tell you, storytelling like that will humble you real quick. There is room to experiment, but every decision mattered. So, do you push your own style, or fall back and let theirs lead? Do you go with minimalistic look or do give the audience strong bold? Do push to bring everything to the surface or leave treasures to find and unpack? With all those questions, I realized that when you are designing and helping to tell someone else’s story there really is no “right” if it’s not real. What I mean by that is, skill is simply a tool. If the skill and the aesthetics does not push and reflect the story, it’s pointless.
Now, these graphics wouldn’t just end up on streaming platforms or be displayed within an intimate space at a listening party, but an Audio-Visual Show Premiere called “If I Could Weep, It Would Hail” by John Tyler. That means a multi-sensory experience making visuals and music the core of the entire experience, this would be Season 1 and it would be premiered inside of a museum. But you know, no pressure. So, I had my doubts and judged myself because I felt this first that I was experiencing as a creative had amplified on me exponentially. I pushed through and no I was not perfect, but I continued to show up and so did the work. Watching everything unfold was surreal and the feeling intensified as the show got closer.
The day of the show felt like walking into parts of my brain but caught in 4K. Everything I had been building on my screen was suddenly surrounding me. I almost didn’t know what to do with myself and it broke me a bit, but in a good way because there was a point where I believed this would never happen. It was insane and to meet some of the team that was involved too was even more rewarding even though I probably speaking gibberish at times. Oh, this was me in the lobby mind you. The show’s about to start, the narrator announcing the time left on the count down and I’m sitting looking at all the people rolling in while I sink. The more people, the more eyes, the more feelings, the more I hope that my work met the mark and would land. I had no idea what to expect, but when the screen transitioned, the album started playing that first cover popped up 50x bigger than my laptop screen, I died and I sunk. Every single visual displayed throughout the duration of every song. I looked to the left, I looked to the right, I looked behind me. There were gasps. Giggles. People pointing. People thinking. People smiling. Some faces I couldn’t even read and I just want to be the inside-out within everyone’s brain. It felt endless, but also a place I wanted to stay in forever. The last applause presented itself and it was time for the artist talk. At this point, I am running on nerves, the loud prayers in my head and a good time. “kjfnsgiwerthmshkshwofhh, Ashiara Divine” and that meant I had to make it from my seat to my chair, next to the actors, in front of the audience, in the spotlight. Chile, I have been on many stages, but just sitting down with a mic and being asked questions is hefty. I didn’t even know where to look. However, the feeling of the panel and audience sharing moments and allowing for vulnerability to present itself ironically while talking about the impact of the album as well topics in relation to it, it made me feel so safe. I became comfortable and could share my thoughts without hesitation because there was something bigger happening and things felt like they landed perfectly.
When it clicked at the start of this entire process, it opened up a space in me as a creative that I hadn’t fully stepped into before. A space where talent and taste weren’t enough, I had to lead with intention. Design wasn’t just about making something look good, it became memory, emotion, identity, and storytelling all into one. I’m usually the one telling my own stories. I craft the vision, pull from my depths, and shape the message. But this time, I was part of a team, telling a story that wasn’t mine. A story I had to learn, sit with, respect, and serve. I had to stretch, I had to feel deeper, I had to listen harder, and most of all, I had to trust that I was built for this responsibility even before I could see it clearly. That click wasn’t just a realization, it was a shift. One that changed something in me. I walked away more aware of what I could do, and even more grounded in why I do it. I don’t design just to make things look good, I design to make them mean something. To help carry stories forward and make people feel them.