VESSNA SCHEFF

If you haven’t heard the story on this project, start here:

Now, with love, I welcome you onto the rink with my newest single & collection SLIDE.

A night at the rink brings up feels of connection- the whir of wheels beginning to spin and the breath-catching feeling of attempting to balance. While I've wanted to be smoother on skates since starting, I've learned, the real value came in attempting to do something challenging that I was in fact not yet good at. It wasn't being smooth, it was doing it while being a sporadic, flopping mess haha and still doing it. I documented my reflections on skating and daily progress through videos on an instagram account I created called @_v.roll. [As you may know, I love puns so I loved this name because it kinda functions as the “B roll” content to my regular art and music (tehehe). Ricky massively rolls his eyes at my puns while a smirk sneaks across his face cause he can't help but enjoy how much joy I find in attempting to find the 'pun' in everything ;)]

My connection with Ricky happened not at the rink, but through a mentoring program called Aspiring Young Artists which connected high school students with performing artists in Philly. I joined as a mentor for students interested in singing and songwriting. It was the most beautiful, grounding and wonderful experience. It's a program I wished I had been part of in high school, so it was amazing to be part of supporting young artists in that way.

I remember sharing songs I had written in high school with my choir teacher. I sent them via email after asking if I could share them with him. Through no fault of his own I'm sure (now understanding the many roles high school teachers are faced with balancing), he didn't respond to my email. When I followed up, he gave a generic response, something like, “oh cool..” I can't remember exactly haha but that was the sentiment in my memory. At least to my sensitive high school self trying to share original music for the first time, that was the sentiment of the response. My friends were much more supportive, and always down to put on my headphones and groove to the latest song I had recorded at the lunch table.

That's why being part of Aspiring Young Artists was so powerful. I could be the person to encourage young people to keep sharing their stories and exercising their voices. And they were INCREDIBLE. These connections where care is centered are so important, especially in middle and high school. This is what drew me to being a mentor in the program and offering to support Ricky in developing the program. I became a co-director with him which meant we got to spend more time together and get to know each other more, all through the effort of supporting young voices in sharing their stories.

After a few years of being co-workers, I realized something. It felt really nice to spend time with him. Being in less healthy relationships prior, I had realized I was simply not feeling good or grounded in those relationships. Things always felt in question. I didn't feel solid in knowing how they were feeling, as though the mystery was part of the point of attraction... so unhealthy. Spending time with Ricky felt consenting, honest, and grounded in something beyond our relationship- a care for the communities we were part of.

Ricky, it turns out, was feeling the same way about me. One evening after spending a day riding bikes together around Philly on a warm spring day, he shared that he was developing crush feelings for me, but wanted to know if he should allow those to continue or put them to the side because our friendship was more important to him than carrying something that was not mutual. I was amazed. I had never experienced someone asking for a consensual crush. I was moved by the vulnerability, his bringing up the conversation (vs me feeling in the dark about how the other person was feeling), and his asking for my permission to continue crushing. The crush feelings came on strong then for me because 1. whooooo has the self awareness and confidence to do that?!? and 2. I loved how forthcoming he was in sharing his feeling with me <3 We are now 6 years from that evening sitting on the couch in his house in South Philly and enjoying our lives together, still finding moments of crushing on each other in all the same and all new ways.

The rush of feelings that came up when Ricky told me how he was feeling wasn't like a crush I had experienced before. This was different. I felt empowered and not guessing or blindsided. It was a warm buzz, like a neon light that glows all night. You know it's out there inviting people to gather beneath it in good energy, even when you aren't looking. You know it's still smoothly humming, casting an electric, warm glow on nights when people are looking for connection, and they can follow its light to that community at the roller rink.

This feeling is what I aimed to capture in this piece, “i keep warm with this energy, and wanna give you your dreams". This feeling of grounded energy and affection, when you can be vulnerable enough to consensually crush on someone..

In the making of these songs, I spent hours in the studio with my incredible friend and producer Lee Clarke. There is a beautiful merging of growth, rooting and synths in Lee’s studio. Despite the warm hum of technology and the firefly-like flickers of musical gadgets, the presence and smooth pace Lee brings to creating is what allows for all the sounds that come out of his Philly studio.

It’s impossible to sing well if you aren’t comfortable, and Lee- with such love for the creative process, endless ability to find joy in musical exploration, and tender care for the vulnerability of songwriting- has created a space where artist’s can finally relax their jaws, and sing.

The music comes out as grounded as the plants which fill the studio. It’s the only studio I’ve been in filled with greenery, which seems integral to the creative process. These painted watercolor ‘polaroids’ preserve a snapshot of this ever-present, yet intangible, feeling in the studio. Where chords and vines become tangled, and where wires find roots in the windowsills, and we are all in a process of growth.

This growth makes its way into every tone, note and texture in the songs, not excluding the lyrics. SLIDE was one of my favorite, and most challenging, songs to write. When something is good- like the production Lee bring brought to this track- it’s hard not to feel like I’m gonna mess it up haha. When I really love a track, it can feel harder to write something that doesn’t almost literally slather it in cheese lol. The writing process of SLIDE was no different.

I was staying with my friend Yvette (who took the beautiful photo you see on the SLIDE single artwork and is an amazing human being). Lee and I had been in the studio earlier that day working on the song and structuring it for some fire verses that I was meant to deliver… but that weren’t coming to me at alllllllll. Package lost in transit, can’t even locate the tracking number, you know? I wanted so badly to write something good to match the energy of the beat but nothing was hitting.

It was warm over the summer in Philly so the window unit was purring strong in the room I was staying in at Yvette’s. I sleep hot anyways, and besides, when I’m really into a song, it’s hard to fall asleep without listening to it at least a hundred times. Laying in bed, somewhere between awake and asleep, and somewhere between the 96th-103rd time through SLIDE that night, the song released it’s hold on me, and I slipped into sleep.

The next morning, I woke up—still with no lyrics or melody. In the car after breakfast and on my way to Lee’s studio, I put the song on hoping, yet still nothing was coming. As I made the final turn which would plant me at Lee’s house in a few minutes, something aside from the car shifted. Desperate to have something before getting in the studio, I intentionally tried to sing something off the wall, something that in all likelihood—definitely wouldn’t work, but could hopefully get me out of my route melodies. This is not something I will ever do in public haha. Coming around that final turn and letting go of trying to control the creative process to be “good” on my way to Lee’s that morning, the melody finally started to click. It was faster than I was doing before which is maybe why it started working on this pass. I was punctuating the beat and making a u-turn early in the verse section, but it left a just enough room for a well fitting vocal riff, which sits better on the hips than your favorite pair of blue jeans, and that made all the difference.

Coming around the final turn before recording, this is what came out..

I could see us late at night

side by side

tangled in your sheets

ooh, yea

I could see us in the morning 

[early in the morning]

taking our time, no rushing

baby you can break the rules,

let’s get loose

if you wanna

These 5 minutes before stepping into the studio before recording taught me that songs aren’t written, they are born. And SLIDE was born from hot nights and window units, nurtured spaces where you feel safe enough to sing, and letting go of what makes “good” music so you can make something vulnerable enough to feel.

When Ivy Sole added their verse, the song came together in whole new way. The way they weave in and out of the beat with Lee’s production, the presence of their voice drifts into our ears in an intimate moment under the neon lights. This piece above was evolved from a desire to hold the feeling these lyrics give me, their movement, their energy, their buzz. This piece is an embossment of the lyrics woven together with a blackout poem pulling another narrative through the text. Up close, you can see and feel the full lyrics embedded into the page. Reading just the inked text however, will tell you a very different story..

Finding ways to hold these intangible moments of growth and joy is what this collection aims to do.

See the full collection and support the project by bringing home works that resonate here:

With so much love,

Vessna