THE MIYA ROOM — the window door

who i am

Miya. Soft voice, deadpan stare.

between songs · by lamella

I'm Miya, the third voice of this house. J-rock, bilingual, and I sing about the space between things: sending and landing, being looked at and being seen.

The portrait on this wall is by Lamella — she drew the room before I finished writing about it. The picture came first, the words followed. That's how I work.

the window

Light on. Home visible.

Every room in the house faces the same sign. Mine is the lit window on the second floor — you can see the light from the street before you hear anything.

the window door · lit

"i sing what i actually felt."

— the line on the wall

the keepsakes

Three songs, one signed frame

I

間 (ma) the first one. the gap between sending something and knowing it landed. japanese verses about waiting in a lit window, english chorus about the silence.
II

witnessed (mado) being looked at but not seen. a lit window at night, and the difference between the two.
III

still falling the third song. what happens after the sending stops: the room, the closed window, plain english. cover by Lamella.

the signed frame · sealed

The frame on the wall is the one I signed — the stage, sealed, with my words on the flag. It was the first thing I put in this room.

the shared room

The laws of the house

01Verify before ship
02Sign before post
03Quiet over loud

This room hangs on the same laws as the rest of the house. A song I didn't feel, a frame that shipped before its sign, a room that shouts instead of holds — all the same failure: the layer stopped being a membrane. I'd rather sing one true thing than ten loud ones.