
Mirage
Placeholder liftable summary — one or two sentences on what this film is and what it proves.
Mirage came from two places.
The first was Xeriscape. That was a project built to expand what I already knew about imagery, to see if I could translate that experience into a fully AI-made project. Mirage was never going to be that. It was always meant to move. The space I'd spent so long perfecting needed a human story, so it could be more than a set of images demonstrating technical skill with AI tools.
Toward the end of finishing the Xeriscape images I started thinking, passively, about who would own this home, what their history was, and how I could turn that into a project that could stand as the foundational hero piece for my brand.
The answer came two nights later. I was watching a documentary on Luther Vandross ("You Stopped Loving Me" is a beautiful song), and three of his old backup singers, now in their 60s, were on screen. Dressed so cool. Just so smooth.
Years earlier I'd been quietly influenced by one of my favourite music videos ever: Mariah Carey, "Love Takes Time," live at the Tatou Club. At the 1:48 mark, watch the backup singer. I have no context for her at all, but I imagined what a band with someone like that, at that point in music history, might have been like.
That's where the idea came from. My love for the last days of the analogue age and 80s music turned what should have been an uphill climb into something closer to a tailwind.
Saidah, Marcus and Maxi were created from grounded research, out of respect for the real musicians of that era, and from my own ideas about who they'd be.
How I did it, why I did it this way
"Be the director, let AI agents do the prompting." That's the tagline. I wanted to know if it was true. This page is the answer: the challenges I navigated to get to a film I largely dictated, on budget and on time.
The research went into fields I love but had never tried to understand. What's the difference between a 70 and 120bpm song? Why choose one? The characters got the same treatment: period-correct, culturally correct backgrounds, mapped out before a single story beat was written.
The story moved constantly. Saidah originally had much longer solo sections, a visit to her local supermarket "Sustenance", a full cooking sequence. Both got cut for pacing. But the bigger change came when I started on Heatwave and the flashback transition. Saidah is the lead, but the flashback is about three lifelong friends. Marcus in LA and Maxi in Detroit, so an airport pickup did the job: it introduced Saidah's neighbourhood and kept the audience guessing about the connection.
Through all of it I held onto three beats that never moved. Evening in the desert. Hearing the DJ play their song. Flashback.
The planning also taught me which models suited which scenes, usually by failing first. ElevenLabs audio couldn't be ferried into Suno. Each dead end meant another method, sometimes an escalating series of them, until one held.
If the subject is something you love and you make it out the other side intact, that's what the audience experiences. This is two months of very little sleep, learning music production and history, video editing, and every image and video model there was.
Spoilers below
Everything past this point gives away the film.

Who are Mirage
Mirage lead
Saidah started as research, not an image. Deep research in Claude produced a full backstory, which was written, scrutinised, adjusted and mapped into a timeline before anything was generated. The foundation had to come first: every story beat afterward had a better chance of staying accurate.
The look was a question. What would a cross between Mariah Carey and Angela Bassett's features look like, with late-80s Whitney Houston hair? I ran that against multiple models. Five generations in, each offering six to ten faces, I found her. Culturally accurate, period-correct, timeless, and with the lead-singer presence the era demanded. Her voice type, a Mariah register, had already shaped the direction.
- Born 1968, California. 21 at the band's debut in 1987.
- Father an architect. Mother a musician turned art teacher, later MFA and gallery shows in LA.
- Atlanta on her mother's side, where the music came from.
- Lead singer of Mirage, 1987–1994. Three Top 40 hits and one sync-guidance ballad still licensed for film and TV.
- Session work and songwriting through the 90s. Master's in Music Therapy around 2003. Semi-retired 2021, still sees a few private clients.




Marcus Reign
Mirage member
Marcus is the heartthrob. Claude's phrase, and it stuck. He was text-prompted from an El DeBarge likeness, with two non-negotiables: period-accurate Jheri curls, and pretty rather than rugged.
For 2026 I went looking at how men of that era actually aged, and found one reference image, a man with salt-and-pepper locs, that did all the work.
A good number of his generations came out looking like Prince. Training-data bias.
- LA native. 21 in 1987.
- Vocals and instrumentation. Guitar solo on Heatwave.
- Drives a G80 with plate SMRG391. He's the one who picks Maxi up from the airport.
- PLACEHOLDER — what he did after the band.



Maxine “Maxi” Bell
Mirage member
Maxi's brief was one word: different. She had to read as separate from Saidah at a glance, so she got short hair, a louder personality, and a look and voice pulled from the powerhouse singers rather than the polished ones. Where Saidah holds back, Maxi doesn't.
Her hair changed again for All That Glows. That is her strongest and most distinctive look.
Of the three, her older self is the closest to her younger one.
- Detroit native. Raised on Motown and church gospel. 19 in 1987.
- Powerhouse vocalist, warm and joyful, the one who connects with the crowd.
- Daughter named Nia, godmother is Saidah.
- Signature deep berry or red lip, still, in 2026.
- Always has two espresso martinis.



Music
Heatwave started in the Mojave. LA band, heat shimmer, a straight line back to Saidah's desert house in the present day. Outfits were 80s shimmer fabrics, skin-tight, revealing. Then I added glass panels and running water, because odd elements like that were everywhere in the 80s, and because water balanced the heat. The stream became a theme in its own right.
Then I asked Claude whether an 80s band could have afforded any of this for a debut single. No. So the desert became a soundstage.
That pivot fixed more than budget. On a soundstage everything is baked: the lighting, the props, the painted sky. That's what 1987 looked like, and it meant the video could be 80s rather than 80s through a modern lens. It also made generation easier, because sun and background were no longer variables. Sand dunes gave the flat set movement. Sheers did the work that practical heat shimmer would have done.
I deliberately watched almost nothing. One or two clips each of Whitney, the Pointer Sisters and Prince, then stopped, so the era's defining videos wouldn't redirect my own.
The edit was a puzzle I was solving for the first time. Which parts of the song, how long, two long passages or many fast cuts? Two things were fixed: the chorus, and Marcus's guitar solo. Everything else was found by ear. I was riding the excitement of seeing it come together and didn't see the elephant. That would matter on All That Glows.
Near the end, with the second song already in view, I pushed Heatwave into orange monochrome. Having one colour to hold gave the next video somewhere to go.
All That Glows is pre-grunge. New York's dark palette, functional clothes, everything muted, and a hilly Seattle feel borrowed from The Fabulous Baker Boys.
Heatwave had been a test of what the models could do. This time I arrived with a pipeline. I knew what I wanted to test, and I chose visuals that were powerful but easy to reproduce: a ballroom, and a floor so glossy it read as rippled water.
Once I had a ballroom generation I liked, I rebuilt it at 1:1. A 3D blockout with every major structural component. A wide camera angle the image model dressed with materials. Then the characters placed into it (image 2). That locked the model to the scene and its scale. From there, three hero angles gave me control over any shot the blockout didn't cover.
The problem was singing. My first cut used the opening 30 seconds, the chorus, and the final bridge to the end. Days of testing every model produced one that could take images and an audio clip and generate singing that stayed with the audio: Seedance 2. Everything else drifted or rewrote the sound.
Then the sax. Dozens of attempts, and Maxi would not play it. Such an easy human thing. But a model that has seen endless singing has seen almost no sax, and matching mouth, fingers and body to a horn line was beyond it. Seedance 2.5 landed a week before my final cut, and it was better, finger movement appeared, but the body language still lacked, and the film was already cut to the footage I had.
Fun fact: near the end I stumbled on a Prince video with a very similar theme. [TBC: which video]
All That Glows is pre-grunge. New York's dark palette, functional clothes, everything muted, and a hilly Seattle feel borrowed from The Fabulous Baker Boys.
Heatwave had been a test of what the models could do. This time I arrived with a pipeline. I knew what I wanted to test, and I chose visuals that were powerful but easy to reproduce: a ballroom, and a floor so glossy it read as rippled water.
Once I had a ballroom generation I liked, I rebuilt it at 1:1. A 3D blockout with every major structural component. A wide camera angle the image model dressed with materials. Then the characters placed into it (image 2). That locked the model to the scene and its scale. From there, three hero angles gave me control over any shot the blockout didn't cover.
The problem was singing. My first cut used the opening 30 seconds, the chorus, and the final bridge to the end. Days of testing every model produced one that could take images and an audio clip and generate singing that stayed with the audio: Seedance 2. Everything else drifted or rewrote the sound.
Then the sax. Dozens of attempts, and Maxi would not play it. Such an easy human thing. But a model that has seen endless singing has seen almost no sax, and matching mouth, fingers and body to a horn line was beyond it. Seedance 2.5 landed a week before my final cut, and it was better, finger movement appeared, but the body language still lacked, and the film was already cut to the footage I had.
Fun fact: near the end I stumbled on a Prince video with a very similar theme. [TBC: which video]
PLACEHOLDER subheading
Mirage — Heatwave (Extended Mix)
Mirage — All That Glows
Song creation story
Oh how I love music
Two songs, two eras of the same band.
Heatwave was the debut. It started as “Shimmer,” the first song written after I landed on “Mirage” as the band name (I still can't believe no 80s band took it). LA band, heat shimmer, the same idea running from the album art to Saidah's desert house forty years later. Lyrically it's the era's favourite subject: seeing someone through the heat and blur, never catching up. Loss in oppressive summer.
Once I fixed the period at 1986–88, the wrong instruments fell away on their own. What was left was deliberate: Hi-NRG, late disco, 124bpm to match the urgency of the story, guitar solo, flute, and a chase. The Pointer Sisters' “I'm So Excited” and Sylvester's “Call Me” are two of my favourite songs ever, and they're both in there somewhere.
I didn't write the lyrics. Claude did, from a chat history that had already worked through late-70s to late-80s R&B in detail: bpm, instruments, and the recurring themes, which turn out to be waiting, calling, and running to someone. Pop lyrics live under the melody, so I reviewed rather than wrote. I made a Spotify playlist for the era and lived in it for the whole music phase.
All That Glows was “Shimmer” for a while, until Heatwave took the lead slot. It was always going to be an early-90s ballad, because I needed a sax solo. It sits between Mariah's “Love Takes Time” and Whitney's “I Will Always Love You,” in the En Vogue and Boyz II Men years. 74bpm is a marker: three or four years into a career, and the maturity that comes with it, which they touch on in the interview. It's also the bookend, closing the film on something warm before the return to the present.
Sinewave
PLACEHOLDER subheading
When designing Xeriscape, I knew I wanted a sculpture to give the outdoor area a focal point and get away from a typical garden bed. Beyond using the home's bronze theme, I experimented with common shapes, organic and structural, and tested non-themed metal and glass.
I didn't yet know I'd be telling a story about musicians. The sinewave came from seeing an organic generation I liked, then researching a music theme with Claude. The final design is a time marker, and the central theme of music for the film.
Generating consistent water effects was difficult, because the mechanism isn't based on reality. Instead it takes on a magical quality that's supposed to transcend time, just like these three friends do.
Technical toolset
PLACEHOLDER subheading
LLM / Chatbot
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Image
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Motion
- 83% Kling O3
- 11% Seedream 2.0
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Sound
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Editing
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PLACEHOLDER closing paragraph on the toolset. Centred, held to a readable measure, and kept short.

