Hi Ren

Every so often, you stumble upon an artist who doesn’t just hit you square in the feels—they floor you, as if serving up the soundtrack to something long unexpressed.

For me, one such artist is Ren.

I still remember the jolt of awe-njoyment of hearing Hi Ren for the first time. 

I was living in Nosara, Costa Rica, sitting outside my tiny jungle hideaway, sipping my morning coffee while monkeys screeched all around me. Bubbling with curious energy at the link I’d received from a friend, I took a breath and pressed play.

My eyes grew glued to the screen and the screeching monkeys fell out of my awareness as his blend of spoken word, rap, and melody morphed into something hauntingly intimate. There was a vulnerability and defiance, a sharpness and edge. 

His pain wasn’t dressed up or diluted—but on full display, and I was captivated.

That first listen left me hooked. 

As I delved deeper into his discography I realised Ren is more than mere musician…

He’s a gritty storyteller of unfiltered truth…

A creative genius with bold, artistic visions…

And a mind-blowingly skilled multi-instrumentalist…

Here is a man wrestling daily with chronic mental and physical challenges, yet he pours himself into song after song, each one laced with the special kind of grit and beauty that only comes from a person who’s been to the edge and back again.

From the biting social critiques in Money Game Parts One, Two (my favourite), and Three, to the pained introspection of Sick Boi and the gut-wrenching narrative of Violet’s Tale, Ren doesn’t just make music—he transmutes lived experience into aural magic.

As someone who’s well-versed in the undertow of mental health struggles and the drag of chronic physical pain, I see Ren’s work as both mirror and light. 

His gritty and unfiltered music feels like a reminder: 

Even in darkness, creation is possible—and perhaps creating is the way through.

Ren’s art doesn’t attempt to soften or soothe his reality, or ours. Instead, he lays life bare, inviting us into his world where the battles are daily, and victories hard-won. 

There’s something profound, something inspiring in this kind of honesty, in the way he finds beauty not in spite of his struggles, but alongside them.

So here’s to Ren! The artist whose music, like the man himself, stands as proud proof that pain, when woven into art, can resonate, inspire, and heal.

On that note, I’m taking inspiration from Ren in my next Whimsie—the subject of which is something I’ve never, ever written about, but should have long, long ago.

Monday the 25th. 630 AM PST. Your inbox. See you there.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander

(AKA: Wiz, WOW, and The Wizard of Wordcraft)