“We Move In Pieces” by Stephanie Happening is a radiant indie-pop anthem that turns vulnerability into strength. With shimmering synths, pulsing rhythms, and a chorus that feels both fragile and triumphant, the track reflects on how life’s broken fragments can still form something beautiful.
For those who might not know you yet, how would you introduce yourself?
I’m Stephanie Happening, though in truth, I’m also Step, Hanie, Stephanie, Bradley and many others. We are a multidisciplinary DID artist and advocate, creating music, painting, performance, sculpture, and digital worlds that speak to the beauty and complexity of multiplicity. My work is born from survival and transformation, cancer, CSA healing, and the radical act of living out loud. Every song, every brushstroke, every installation is a conversation between ourselves, and with the world, about resilience, identity, and joy. Us create immersive, multi-sensory experiences that invite people to feel seen, to dance, to heal, and to celebrate the parts of themselves they’ve been told to hide. Art is how we survive out loud and how we remind each
other that we are many, and we are whole.
If you had to bottle up your sound into just three words, which ones would you
choose?
Fierce. Luminous. Unbound. Fierce, because our sound refuses to shrink. Luminous, because it carries light even through the darkest stories. Unbound, because it doesn’t obey genre or expectation, it’s as fluid and many as we are.
Which artists (not only music-related) or moments have left the biggest mark on
your music?
Our work is shaped by artists who bend reality and time. Salvador Dalí taught us that the surreal is not an escape, but a mirror, his melting clocks and dreamscapes gave us permission to let our own inner worlds spill into the music without apology.
Vivaldi showed us how to paint with sound, how to let seasons and emotions swell and recede like tides. Beyond them, it’s the moments of survival and transformation that leave the deepest marks, waking up after surgery, dancing in a club after months
of silence, hearing our own voice layered in harmony for the first time. Those moments are as much our teachers as any artist. We carry all of it into our songs, the surreal, the symphonic, the lived. Every track is a canvas where Dalí’s dream logic
meets Vivaldi’s precision, and our own story becomes the bridge between them.
When you hit play on your songs, what kind of feeling takes over?
When we hit play, it’s like opening a door into a room we’ve built from every version of ourselves. There’s a rush, part heartbeat, part tidal wave that pulls us in. The air feels charged, colours seem louder, and it’s as if time bends the way Dalí painted it. It’s not just hearing the music, it’s stepping inside it. Every bassline is a pulse, every harmony a hand on the shoulder saying, ‘You made it.’ It’s euphoria braided with painful memories, a reminder that we survived, we created, and now we get to dance in our own light.
Can you walk us through the story or emotion behind this track?
We Move In Pieces is a track born from the truth that healing and becoming aren’t linear; they’re mosaics. It’s about the way we carry fragments of ourselves through time: the selves we’ve been, the ones we’ve lost, the ones still emerging. Each verse is a shard, memories, voices, sensations, sometimes jagged, sometimes luminous. The chorus is the moment those pieces find rhythm together, even if they don’t fit perfectly. It’s a song about movement without a map, about trusting that even in our
brokenness, we’re still in motion, still creating something whole. For us, it’s both a confession and a celebration, that we are many, and we are still dancing.
If you could team up with anyone in the world—no limits—who would be that dream
collaborator?
We’re drawn to Artists – collaborators who live in the in‑between, who can hold the surreal and the visceral in the same breath. It’s less about genre and more about shared courage: the willingness to make something that feels like stepping into a nightmare then twisting it into a dream you don’t want to wake from.
Outside of music, what brings you joy or keeps you grounded?
Outside of music, we find our grounding in the quiet conversations of the natural world. The way sunlight filters through a canopy of trees, the hum of bees stitching the air together, the scent of earth after rain, these are our reset buttons. Nature reminds us to move at the pace of seasons, to create without rushing, and to honour the cycles of rest and bloom. Whether it’s walking barefoot on grass, tending to our plants, or simply listening to the wind, these moments keep us tethered to something bigger than ourselves.
Do you have a favourite ritual, quote or mantra that keeps you motivated on tough
days?
Our mantra is simple but it shapes everything we do: “Don’t see what it is, see what it can become” On the hardest days, it reminds us that nothing is fixed, not a song, not a feeling, not a moment in time. We look at the raw, the broken, the unfinished, and
we choose to see the potential shimmering underneath. It’s how we approach our art, our healing, and our lives: as works in progress, always capable of transformation.
