Q&A: How to Be a Black Tomboy with Jasmine Marie
Photo by Jasmine Marie
Photographer, filmmaker, conceptual artist, poet, and fiction writer Jasmine Marie is like really creative. Read the Q&A from our interview available on YouTube, Spotify, and Apple Podcasts.
ZACK ORSBORN:
So I'm joined by Jasmine Marie. Jasmine is a multi-talented, multi-disciplinary artist and photography, film, poetry, prose, collage. Just everything. So I met you in 2020. We were part of the Creative Underground cohort. It was all virtual and it was the first time I had really connected with a creative community in Memphis. And I thought you were so cool. She's so conceptual. She has such a sharp eye and she's got her stuff together. So I had to have you on.
JASMINE MARIE:
Okay! I'm honored. Thank you.
ZO:
So with all the art mediums I listed, another thing I've noticed about you is you're always putting out work. You're one of the hardest working artists that I've seen. You're in shows in different states. You were a Crosstowns Arts resident. What is the drive behind that? What keeps you keep putting out stuff?
JM:
Honestly, the most immediate drive is my parents asking me questions about what I'm doing and if it's going well and having a career or things like that. So, I also, I don't know, I think I learned very early that like, a lot of opportunities, you really do have to go after and search for, especially like being in Memphis.
It's like, you know, you can flow, you can come across people who have, like, the connections you need. But I think one thing that was just sort of taught to me and like, even when I was in high school, in the youth programs I was in, I was just like, it's on you to kind of make these connections.
So there's that. And I also, I don't know, I think I look—I had like a lot of inspirations and influences when I was coming into art, and I always just loved exhibitions and galleries and just, like, multifaceted, just art things. And so I was just trying to be in the mix basically.
ZO:
And you were talking about exhibitions. You had a really, like, mind blowing exhibit. I didn't get a chance to see it in person, but I saw you post about it and it was called Offering/Please Save the Baby at Beverly and Sam Ross at Christian Brothers. And it was a mix of photography, poetry, collage. How was it like putting all those elements together? What was the process of doing such a big exhibition?
JM:
Yeah. So that was actually like my first solo exhibition. Period. So initially I was approached to show some of the photography I worked on during the Crosstown Arts residency in 2022. So part of it was I wanted to—when it came to the images—I wanted to one: show growth and range as far as like color and light because that's something I kind of like.
I haven't settled on the particular style, I think? I always just kind of go with what the theme or the story is. When it came to like splitting the show into two, this show came at like a, I don't know, real turning point in, like, my artistry as far as just things opening back up again after, you know, quarantine and my creative community looked a lot different than it did before.
And I have—like, one of my artists, I guess, flaws that keeps me from making the work is I often worry a lot about what people come to my work with as far as, like, what they already know about me. I was just concerned about how I've shown up in the past.
I'm like an adult now. What—I'm 25, so I was like 22 or 23 when that show happened. So it was like my first show, as you know, not a youth artist so much anymore. And I felt like there were also some things I had to, like work through as an art. Some things I had to, like, say goodbye to, some stories I had to kind of like do so I don't have to do them again.
And so I was figuring out how to navigate that because I don't necessarily think art itself is like healing in itself. As a person who really needed therapy, I'm like, oh, like, no, this ain't cutting it. This isn't cutting it. But I wanted to challenge myself to create personal work, to create biographical work that really just existed on its own.
Not so much as, like, I hope somebody sees this. I hope whoever it's about sees it—stuff like that. It was just like, what can I really pull from to just create a story? And even in that gallery, it went sort of like in order as far as—like it was about a lot of like coming of age in the arts community and things I witnessed between me and my peers and just a lot of things like that.
So it was a it was a very emotional process. But I felt proud of myself. I'm very critical of like—especially after the fact—of like, oh, I should have did this and there are like little mistakes and dings and stuff like that. But I think it was very impactful for just having a space to myself. Like they let me paint the walls red or not even let me—they did it for me. They did it for me. I was like, I want the walls red. And they were like, okay, cool. So that was fun. But yeah, it was just a really cool experience, first experience. I love that show.
ZO:
And you were talking about doing biographical work. What parts of yourself did you hope to express through that show?
JM:
I think it was very inner child heavy, but also because most of the events I was referencing happened like in my teen years. So I guess, like, also inner teen but kind of that whole thing. Definitely a lot about just positions socially as far as, like gender and race and like just being a young black girl, getting into, like, the art field and everything that comes with that.
The good and the bad. I think a question that was sort of driving Please Save the Baby is like, okay, what parts of these experiences do I keep as like actual things I've learned about the craft and being an artist? And what can I sort of like let go? Like of things like I really did not need to experience that actually.
But I will say overall, I think what's constant in that show is just I think a thing a lot of people just growing up and living in Memphis learn is just like tenacity and like working hard and really building something out of nothing. I would say those are probably like the best things I've gotten out of my upbringing as an artist is just the building something out of nothing.
And it also helps when you know that, like opportunities—you can make your own opportunities and also trusting that you are going to find them, which ironically helped when it came time to like leave those spaces I came up in because it's like, oh, well, I know how to do it. I'mma be fine. I do not have to rely on spaces that are not aligned with me or are really not safe for me.
So, you know, thanks for teaching me how to do that. Bye.
ZO:
Are you a lifelong Memphian?
JM:
I am.
ZO:
So I love meeting lifelong Memphians. Y'all are always the coolest to me. What has growing up in Memphis—how has it influenced your artistic style and your voice? How would you say?
JM:
You know, I think it's in the process of transforming right now.
Because lately I've been doing a lot more writing, lots more written work and just really re-finding my individual voice when it comes to putting my upbringing and my world into my work. And so I would say one thing about Memphis that I love that just shows up in my work is like, I don't know—we were kind of talking about sound a little earlier, but like if you were to translate sound into visuals, I feel like Memphis—
Memphis is sounds, whether that's like the stillness. I've always been—since I was a little girl—adore the sound of cicadas in the afternoon.
ZO:
I write a lot about cicadas.
JM:
Yes, it's just like the lulls. Just like these, these buzzes of Memphis. Not so much in, like, you know, like a New York where it's always loud. But just like they're just certain things about Memphis—it just buzzes.
TOGETHER:
It hums.
JM:
Yes, yes. It hums! So I think that's something that shows up in my work when it comes to breaths and space and things like that. I'm also very into green and nature. So that shows up a lot. I love referencing a magnolia tree.
ZO:
Me too!
JM:
Yes! I love a magnolia tree or an oak. I'm trying to think what else? I've been trying to write about the river more. I've been trying to write about bodies of water. I need to actually go, like, physically visit some. What else about Memphis? I love that, like, so many people, like even lifelong Memphians that there's just such a range of experiences too, because I know me—I grew up very—so I grew up in Raleigh area over by like Craigmont High and stuff like that.
But I spent most of my weekends out in the country with my great aunt on my dad's side of family. So I had like a very sort of like, rural Memphis upbringing, which can also be different from a lot of people who grew up, like, let's say, [Midtown] or like in different areas of the city.
So, I just love the range. Being from Memphis, it reminds me that, like, my art doesn't have to look like one particular thing.
ZO:
Exactly. And speaking of one particular thing and not being one particular thing, you have a lot of mediums.
JM:
I do.
ZO:
I can relate. I have writing, music and visual arts, those are the mediums I try to focus on. What is it? Why do you think that you have all these different interests? What do you think that comes from?
JM:
Okay, so first, it’s ADHD, probably that—the neurodivergence, it's diverging. It is, it is. But I don't know, there have always been—the more I do research on my family, I noticed that there's always been like, crafters in my family, especially my mom’s side.
My uncle was a painter for a really long time. I have a cousin, Florine [Démosthéne], who is a prolific artist collage artist. I just went to a show of hers in Nashville. And so I think it just comes down to wanting to express. I remember when I was really young, I say that, like the first medium I came to was like visual arts by drawing, but it might have actually been music.
There's like a picture of me, I like three years old. I got like a play keyboard for Christmas, and I just know in that picture I am—mouth open—I know I'm singing an Alicia Keys song, I just know I am. I was obsessed with her. So a lot of my mediums have been about access to.
So what I had access to actually do so for a long time, having, just, like, a family computer. That was when I was writing. Starting write fanfiction.
ZO:
I used to write fanfiction. I used to write That’s So Raven fanfiction.
JM:
That is amazing. I am so curious.
ZO:
I’ll have to send you a link.
JM:
That’s So Raven fanfiction.
ZO:
It was really bad, but it was dark. She was solving murders.
JM:
Yes, as she should! Let's put these visions to use further than boys. No, I love that. But I was I was writing a lot of Naruto fanfiction. But then as I went through school, focused on visual arts because the downside about MCS and Shelby County Schools is that you could only do one art.
Like one art, that is your art for that school. And if you switch, you gotta restart. So I wanted to explore music for a really long time, wanted to explore theater. But I was the best at visual art. So I was like, well, let me just stick to this while I'm here. So now that I'm grown, I'm sort of like really exploring other mediums in like, a professional capacity.
So I think it just comes down to, I don't know, I'm still figuring out what— because I often get caught up when I have a concept, like, how do I want to execute this concept? And so that sort of throws me through the wringer for a while. But I think it just comes down to the process, whether I'm like cutting and pasting for collage, if that process is going to lend itself to the concept, whether I need to make this a video maybe I need because there needs to be some sort of sound incorporated into it.
So I don't have a for sure answer. I'm always just kind of figuring it out.
ZO:
It's more fun to do just a bunch of little things here and there.
JM:
Yeah. And it's fun to see, you know, what comes out. Like I'm working on a short story right now that I originally thought was going to be a screenplay.
But just in the initial phase of getting all the language out, I'm like, you know, let me just write this as a short story. I could just really just go there with these sentences.
ZO:
So you're talking about concepts. What kind of themes are you exploring at this age? What's kind of like sparking your passions these days?
JM:
I'm really into—so family is always a genre I'm talking about.
I'm really into like, migrations and just what it means to leave your home. Whether that is like force, whether that is planned, expected, unexpected. So I'm thinking of migrations a lot as it relates to my family and also as it relates to like the future?
Also cause like, society is collapsing, quite a bit. And so I often think about—and maybe that could also be just the anxiety of like, what are we finna do? But I think about that a lot, and so I've been looking into a lot of like older narratives and just watching more things of like, people who have had to leave home.
My mom's side of family, they're Haitian. So I have, like, some people to talk to on that side about just being immigrants and what that really means. I would also say I'm doing a lot of, like, folklore research.
ZO:
Oooo, I love folklore.
JM:
Doing lot folklore, getting into some African traditional religions a little bit. I've been trying to write my own myths, which is really hard. Again, my practice is changing right now.
Like, I —‚ one thing about me is like, it's interesting that to say like, I'm always working—because I really am. And what has happened that I accidentally did is like I create for the thing as opposed to, like, creating and then letting the opportunities come. I've kind of, like, swapped what that's supposed to be. So I'm trying to get back to that.
Trying to unlock a part of my mind that's a lot more free and less thinking about constraints. And so as I try to write myths, like, you know, I’m challenged. Like I see your copy of Audre Lorde, and that's literally on my list of books to like reference as part of, like, what I'm trying to do.
ZO:
Zora Neale Hurston also has like really good folklore. Like when you said you're writing myths, I got chills. Tell more about that.
JM:
So, it started off as thinking about archetypes just in media, because another like, area of focus I'm really into—I don't know if any work is going to come out of it soon because it's just not ready—but I'm really interested in like, friendships, particularly like female friendships. And like that start from like a young age and then how they just change and what life be doing—Sula type shit. You know.
So I started with archetypes. I was researching, like the Lone Ranger trope and things like that and thinking about characters I could invent in order to tell stories that—I don’t want to tell me tea.
Like, you know, how can I invent characters to put in these places? And also how can I transform the outcome of those situations? So I’ve just been thinking a lot about figures very similar to honestly, like the Major Arcana cards in the tarot. Just like, what do these figures represent? What lessons do they learn? What is their purpose?
So starting with a lot of character work right now, but also, when it comes to like writing about the environment, like I mentioned earlier, I'm also thinking about parts of nature that also serve as like hubs and where things can happen, things that can incite incidents. Like, I'm working out an idea of a creek. I don't know what the creek does yet.
It is just called The Crying Creek. It is a place people visit for answers, and that is sort of the only thing. So I'm trying to—also, I think with the work of myth, bringing spirituality and magic and those sort of like literal technologies back into just what we were talking about socially because they have influence, even if we're not talking about them.
So I like that to show up in my work a lot, very similar to like Zora and Toni, and those are very much North Stars. As far as inspo.
ZO:
And you were talking about magic and tarot and I like, perked up. I love that shit. What has tarot taught you about creativity? Because I was very hyper fixated on tarot for a little while, and like, I wrote a poem for each tarot card just as like an exercise so I could write about more universal themes instead of just myself. So what tarot taught you?
JM:
You know, I have not picked up my cards in a little minute.
ZO:
Yeah. I go through phases.
JM:
Yeah I go through phases, too.
I think—I think tarot has taught me to listen to my internal voice a lot more. Oftentimes—when I first started, I was very like, you know, flipping through my guidebook and let me check this, let me check that. But I think, what it’s really about is that, like, the intuition is not talked about for no reason, you know. It’s important.
So it's helped me build an intuition. It's helped me, I think, just in, like, the micro levels of myself and, like, my reactions—it’s helped me source out how I really feel about things. You know, because sometimes, like, you know what that card means. You’re in denial. You're gonna act like that’s not what that card means.
You're going to act like you're not disappointed too. But you are. So it's giving me a lot of space to listen. I think tarot is also kind of time consuming when you really get into it, especially if you get like a good spread or you're like, oh, let me learn more. It’s time consuming. But it's also just taught me, like, there are so many ways to deliver a message or so many forms to deliver a message.
You don't have to have like 50,000 different phrases or answers. Sometimes these 26 or 52 are just going to rearrange themselves in a way you need to read them. So yeah.
JM:
I love that. You were talking about reading into what the cards tell you—It's like it makes you confront things you're denying. And that’s how self-awareness grows. I want to talk more about your writing. You said you were kind of focusing heavily more on writing. What is it about this time in your life that you think you want to focus on that?
ZO:
I think it's important to just, like, have stuff written down right now, especially as, like, archives are quite literally disappearing and like, access to information is something I’m thinking about a lot right now.
I feel like writing is like the rawest, most straightforward way—like, outside of speaking—to where I could really say what I mean and not have it sort of like, misinterpreted or like I could really just say it straight. But also, I'm trying to think about language as something that is not that, that it can really be whatever who is wielding it makes it.
It's a little bit about power, it’s a little bit about control, but also about just generally like record keeping. And I want to be able to just have things written for people to read.
JM:
Do you ever think you'll write songs or make music because you were talking about it—when you were younger.
ZO:
So yeah, I have written songs in the past, so I think, I don't know, I've lived so many different lives and it's all coming back to me. So in high school I was like, I was making beats, I was making beats, and I was in poetry club.
And so I was writing my little raps. I never recorded, I never did anything in public for real. And I kind of just brushed it off as like, I'm not a musician. I'm gonna let the musicians have the music, you know. But now I'm kind of realizing, oh, another talent! It really was true! I'm just that talented!
So I have been writing songs. I've been writing songs kind of in the format of like, performance art. Because, like, as a poet—I have like a slam background. So like, performance was always like there with the writing work. And so I’m writing shows again and writing like very mini-songs, a lot of things drawing from like hand games or like, nursery rhymes or hymns, things I kind of play off of those.
Just to start. I don't want to overwhelm myself trying to write bridges, and I just like, because I will, I could but—.
ZO:
Bridges and choruses are hard. When I make music, there’s no chorus. It’s just like me reciting a poem and then like repeating the same thing over and over.
JM:
And it can get experimental, which I like. But yeah. So that's where, where it’s coming into the songwriter.
ZO:
Could you see yourself as like a pop star?
JM:
No. One: because I am—I would be very, received very similarly and probably worse than Chappell Roan. Don't talk to me.
ZO:
You’re very vocal.
JM:
I'm very vocal. I'm like, don't talk to me like that. And also I'm not a dancer. So now, if I find out in ten more years that I can do that too, that would be great.
But I'm not interested in that side of things at all, but I am interested in using—I think my toe dip into music is going to be probably making stuff for, like, the films I'm working on.
ZO:
All right, let's talk about that.
JM:
Okay!
ZO:
You won an award for Indie Memphis, right?
JM:
I did, it was in 2019. And I have not made anything since, but I was just accepted to this fellowship by the Visionary Justice Lab.
ZO:
Okay! Congrats!
JM:
Thank you. So it's called Resisting Narratives of Erasure. And so it's a program we started and we started January, and it runs until April, but we're basically making a short film. Making a short film, have a project budget.
So I'm doing an experimental documentary about black tomboys. So queerness, gender, all types of childhood things. So, yeah. And again, this is my first sort of solo film project since 2019. Very nervous about it. I did not think I was going to get back into filmmaking this year, but I am. So here we are.
ZO:
I’m not surprised. And you're probably nervous because you care.
JM:
Yeah, that's what it always is.
ZO:
I know it's going to be amazing— what makes you want—okay, so you said the word experimental documentary. Talk about that. I don't think I've heard those words together. That's really cool.
JM:
Yeah. So. Well, I'm trying to think of a good example of one I know, but I really wanted to—it’s a concept I had before for a different project, but really just breaking up the traditional structure of documentaries, also creating space to include like vignettes or more like video art elements so I can also just like as a visual person, as a photographer, really intentionally set scenes that can aid in the story I'm telling. I want to play around with, like, shots and lighting and just structure. I'm using some, like, archive material. So that's kind of what makes it sort of experimental in nature.
Still figuring out what it's going to look like, and a lot of the process will come within the editing. I just know that, just the topic, because it's like I'm exploring both like the visual aesthetics of like, tomboys and how they showed up in relation to like, black girls versus non-black girls. And also, on a deeper level, what people's childhood expressions of gender let them know about, like what they want out of life.
And just like their search for freedom and just like raising free children and all that stuff. So because it's like, a topic that kind of spirals into something deeper, having it be experimental and not really confined to traditional documentary structure, I feel like it's going to lend a narrative that isn't really, like, linear anyway, you know.
ZO:
And it fits with the theme of, like, Black Tomboys. It’s not “traditional.” Do you consider yourself a tomboy?
JM:
I think I do. I was very much a tomboy when I was growing up. I think literally very much hated, hated dresses and skirts. It’s very much tied to religion for me as well.
ZO:
I don’t like tucking in my shirt.
JM:
Yeah, all the religious trauma and things like that.
Like I was not really presenting more feminine until high school, and that was just because it wasn't no gay girls around. So I was like, I guess I'll date boys. And they, you know, they not trying to date the studs. And I also—once I got to ninth grade, there was—I got my first pair of cargo shorts and I was like, yeah, tomboy it up.
I got pockets on my knees.
ZO:
That would be a good song.
JM:
You know, maybe! But there was already a stud, and she played basketball in my class in ninth grade. And once I saw her, I was like, well, can’t have that role. And as I got older and again, I really could not go nowhere or like, I was very, like, sheltered.
I could not go nowhere. And so getting to college and really like exploring myself and like socializing more and like thinking more about queerness, I'm just realizing the—the gender there, it be more there to explore. It might be giving more than a woman—plus. So that's just something I want to do. And like, even in this project, I'm interviewing myself also.
I don't know if you've seen Community, but there is a scene where the dean is like, I hope this doesn't awaken something in me. That's how I feel going to this, probably. But I'm like, you know, I'm like, let's dig into it.
ZO:
Awaken it.
JM:
Let's explore it. Let's explore identity.
ZO:
So that's like your next chapter: identity.
JM:
Yeah, I guess so.
ZO:
And queerness comes up a lot in your work. Was that a struggle to express for you? Like were you nervous to express that? When I was first making art, like the first book I ever wrote, there was a gay couple. But before I published it, I changed it to a straight couple because I was 15 in Mississippi. Have you had struggles with that?
JM:
I would say definitely. But it's kind of hard because I feel like when it comes to like sexuality, period, that was just not being explored. There was no space for that.
For real. I was told, don’t date until you’re 16, even if—and it was also like growing up as a girl, very mixed messaging in terms of like, I don't know, not being allowed to date and also like, anytime you have a friend as a boy there's like a little interrogation. And so you feel weird about that.
So I feel like when it came to socializing in sexuality and romance, period, I was very just like did not know what was going on. Stunted, very inexperienced. I would say, as far as when it came to like the religion of it all, I think when I was 12, I was already like one foot out the church as much as I could be having to go.
I'm just like mmmnmm. So I never really—internally—I think did not really feel a way about being queer. I knew it was something I could not express. And I found a lot of refuge in the internet, which was like, you know, you get some, you lose a lot. In terms of, like, innocence.
ZO:
Were you on Tumblr?
JM:
I was on Tumblr. Yes, I was about to say Tumblr. That's where I learned all the terms for sexuality. And then I think I was always just like one of the few queer folks I knew. I think I came out to most of my peers over, like, Facebook the summer after eighth grade.
And so that was really that, and not a lot of people in high—there's some folks who were out in high school, but it was, especially with girls, it's so not taken seriously in high school. If it was dudes who were like, out and floating around the way some of the girls I went to high school were, it definitely would have been a problem.
But with girls was just like, ehh.
ZO:
Like it's a phase or something.
JM:
Yeah, that's very much what it was giving but I kept it—I was open with my friends, now my parents. In the writing, I remember one of the first times I sort of talked publicly in my writing about my queerness—this was like 2016. I was part of Hattiloo Theatre’s Write On Speak Out program. And I had did a poem. I remember like, either the opening lines or like one of the main lines I sort of repeated was like, my parents are afraid I had the devil in me. You know, and the thing about once I get on stage, I'm going to say what I need to say. Once I have the platform. But it was very much, threw my parents for a loop, because I'm pretty quiet at home most of the time. So that was one of the first times that I sort of talked about it publicly. And I don't know, it's been a process of exploring that just on multiple levels or just socializing, period.
ZO:
I can relate 100%. It's good that you like have the confidence to express that now. And so I've been curious—like you're very prolific. You're always working on something. Are there any habits that you have that kind of keep you consistent or give you energy?
JM:
Not good habits. Well...I create systems of organizing for myself a lot. So like, one thing that helps when applying to things is I keep—I made like, my own sort of spreadsheet type thing with, like, deadlines. And when I was in the Crosstown Arts residency, one thing that helped me was setting goals by month or week.
So sometimes I would break projects up in—like let's say I was doing an interview heavy project, I would really have to write to myself, reach out to these people because that's what my anxiety is like. I don't want to reach out, but if I tell myself at this time, do it, I'll just do it.
So a lot of that is breaking stuff up into smaller pieces, but a lot of my motivation, and I'm trying to shift it, is really just the fact that, like, girl, you got to make the art or the art is not going to get made, so you gotta do it. I think right now I'm in a space where my practice, my creative practice, is changing into something that is truly something of my choosing and not circumstantial.
Not because I don't have a studio or because I don't have a car or I don't have time to do blah, blah, blah. So, like, literally I'm moved into a new studio, like a couple weeks ago. So, I'm excited to actually figure out what works for me when I don't have, like, pressure on me.
I think I've always just had pressures, whether that was like, parental or like time constraints or trying to meet benchmarks of people outside of Memphis that have way more resources than I did. So, discovering what my practice looks like without pressure and what sort of habits I can build—I think one thing is respecting my time when it comes to creating, not doing anything else, really, which is very hard.
JM:
It is hard. There are so many distracting things.
ZO:
Yes, but people be suggesting it for a reason. And respecting your writing time is key. And also just making sure, like I'm fed, making sure I'm like hydrated, like I'm not thinking on an empty stomach.
ZO:
My creativity really took a turn when I actually like started drinking water. Before 2020 like I had truly—I was like just like tearing my body up. I would just like drink soda and juice. And then I started this habit app and the first habit that it helps you with is to be able to drink water. And that led to more and more and like I actually can like think about things.
JM:
Right.
ZO:
One of my favorite things to ask artists—if you had all the resources, no pressure, what would be your dream project? Think big.
JM:
Okay I think I have two answers.
So my serious one is, I don't know, I kind of want to host a residency. Like I really do. I've always had like just this dream. I like hosting in general.
But just this dream of like being able to have artists come for like a retreat for a set amount of time and just create and talk through things that are happening in the world. And like, culturally, that's like a dream of mine. I really want to facilitate that.
ZO:
My unserious answer is, if I had all the money and resources, I would get like some of my favorite artists to just do covers of other songs, and I would pay all the licensing fees, I would pay for the recording, but just get in the studio and do this for me so I can listen to it, because me and my sisters, we are always coming up with music concepts. We're like, they should listen to us, we should tweet them, but we don't have the power.
What are some examples? What are some artists and what songs would you want them to cover?
Okay, so the first one, I guess, recently I've been going down like a Stevie Wonder rabbit hole, and I just—I know it already exists.
I'm 100% sure it’s already in the vault, but I would pay for it—I would love to hear Beyoncé singing Lately by Stevie Wonder or—I don't know, I just know she loves his love songs and that Lately in particular, I can hear it in my head. And also I would just, I don't know, I would get Brandy on there.
There are some songs I want Brandy to sing still. I don't know. I'd have to go through my whole library and see hmmm. Sometimes I'm like, oh, I think so-and-so would do this really well. I'm trying to think it was a song I was listening to a couple weeks ago, and I was like, Carrie Underwood, eat your heart out, girl.
I think it was a Fantasia song. It was no, no no no no, it was Raven-Symoné. That's so Raven connection again. So since you were writing That's So Raven fanfiction, surely you have heard her album, This Is My Time.
ZO:
Of course!
JM:
So me and my sisters love This is My Time. In the song Typical, it sounded very All-American girl, like Carrie Underwood.
And I was like, you know what? Yeah, I could hear something. I can hear something going on here, but, you know, Carrie don't like me. She don't.
ZO:
I'm kind of glad, you know.
JM:
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, maybe—perhaps it's for the better. For the better.
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Website: jasthemarie.com