The economies of painted language provide a pathway to the elements of poetry and prose that give life to the mechanics of our imagination. Channeling the collections of thoughts, feelings and perspectives into new orders and sequences of well placed words relay the tenets of song, describing an infinite array of innocence and experience into new forms of evolving arts. Birthed from the bastions of disorganized sections of the unconscious to the more pressing and forward items found in the conscious corners of the mind, heart and soul; aesthetics from the pen, instrument and brush portray the various elements we contend with and contemplate in new ways. From the immediate aspects of the day to day to the latent and seemingly dormant meditations discovered from the furthest recesses of the human spirit, the author/artist invites us to transcend the finite continuum of life and current events in a curation of new ephemeral and ethereal dimensions (never before embarked upon in the same manner or discipline).

Thus is the practice and praxis of poet, writer and musician Miles Hewitt who presents the world with the title track from the forthcoming solo album Heartfall. The Brooklyn by way of Massachusetts poly hyphenate has gifted the world the poem collection The Candle is Forever Learning to Sing, previously part of Boston's own The Solars, whose recent work has been the result of collaborations with members from Aldous Harding, Cass McCombs, Devendra Banhart, Kevin Morby and other notable artists and bands. Hewitt offers the audience sweeping aural vistas of limitless beauty as heard on the baroque and botanical opener "Moongreening", to the percolating percussive coffee house jazz blossoms on "The Ark" that accentuate the illuminations that shine at the crossroads of the mystic and mythic in magnitude and scale. "Heartfall" is a hymn for mid-air flight, the sensation of levitating or the free falls found in dreams; witnessed the moment before awakening. “Heartfall” takes us to that liminal space, between the stratosphere and the vast stretches of earth that gently soars with a sleepy, melancholy serenity that stretches between the aches, fears and the potential promise of hope and love.

Miles Hewitt’s “Heartfall” gracefully descends like a dove seeking shelter from the turbulent storms of the unforgiving skies. The song embodies a gentle pastoral mood, taking on a pensive and reflective air that dives from the burdens of duress and distress for a landing of solace and comfort. Memories and theater picture shows of the mind spin sweetly like a Zoetrope-propelled turbine that ponders both discontinuities and new beginnings. The pangs of hardships endured and wounds of the heart are tended to with the poetics of self-care in a mindset toward a sense of autonomy and personal liberty. The strings gingerly strum, swaying in a waving seesaw of winds, breezing like the descent of a leaf setting upon it’s trajectory as the summer season turns toward the colorful bouquets of autumn hues (and earthly/planetary shifts). “Heartfall” shines with a light that casts a beacon on the places of home and refuge when the world feels twisted in a globe of confusion and chaos. Hewitt underscores that intriguing place of the in-between from the cyclones of the catastrophes that extend beyond calculable measure to the newfound places of bliss that offer rest, renewal and rejuvenated senses of perspective and enlightenment.

Miles Hewitt provided some generous insights on the title track of the new album Heartfall:

The session when we recorded the song “Heartfall” was one of the most special experiences of my musical life. Having only ever recorded with friends in their homes or makeshift studios, I had assembled my dream team of session players — many of whom I’d barely spoken to before — at a beautiful studio to begin work on the album; a huge plunge into the unknown. Needless to say, I was terrified — yet as we began running through takes, I discovered I was in my element, asking the drummer and bassist to play a certain part funkier and deciding when we would take breaks. This was during the height of the pandemic, no vaccines yet and it became clear that these intimidating, highly experienced session cats were really just grateful to have a chance to work on something as a group again. After eight or nine takes, we called it a night and I floated home. The following morning, my friend John, who hadn’t been at the first session, came in early with me to listen to the playback from the previous day. Watching his reaction to the first three seconds of the song made me feel sure we had made something beautiful and worthy.

I don’t know where the word “Heartfall” came from or even entirely what it means. I know the song was half-consciously written about the end of the world — an uncanny autumn at the wrong time of the year, or possibly the final autumn ever. Griffin Brown’s eerie string quartet part (another first for me) was added much later, but planned from the start as a way to unify the song with the first track, “Moongreening.” I see the two as halves of each other.

Miles Hewitt’s Heartfall will be available August 26.