At the age of fifteen he fell in love; not with a high school crush, but with the American West. Mark Maggiori was born in Fontainebleau, a commune of Paris, in June of 1977. His childhood was spent in France, but at the age of fifteen his family took a month-long road trip from New York to San Francisco and this is when he met his love, the Great American West. Mark was struck by the National Parks, the vastness of the plains, and the archetype of "cowboy culture". This trip left a lasting impression on him, but its manifestation would not present itself until later in his life. Mark returned to his home country and was formally trained in academic drawing at Paris’s "Academie Julian". After completing his degree, he then decided to take an artistic detour and pursue one of his other loves, music. In 1997 he formed a successful nu metal band named "Pleymo". The band went on to achieve success and through the various opportunities Mark began to dabble in other creative outlets such as photography, filmmaking, and graphic design. During one of his artistic escapades of filming a music video, he met his future wife Petecia Le Fawnhawk. She was on set as set designer as well as fashion designer for the video. The two artists bonded and Mark eventually made the trip to Oklahoma to meet her family. While on the trip, Mark donned a cowboy hat and Le Fawnhawk’s father challenged his apparel choice by stating something like, “If you a Frenchman are going to wear the cowboy hat, you better know the true story of the cowboy”. So, Le Fawnhawk's father urged Maggiori to visit the “National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum” in Oklahoma City. Maggiori went, and states that he felt as if he was “struck by lightning” and shortly after this visit his Western-themed painting career began. Mark Maggiori’s paintings capture the American Cowboy in a theatrical light via billowing clouds, strong contrasting light, and profoundly realistic portraits. His canvases are large and dominating, but provide comfort as the viewer gets pulled into the lullaby that is the beginning of the West. His artwork is adored in the Western art world and he has won several honors, one which includes being named a member of the “Taos Society of Artists”. I found Mark Maggiori via Instagram and upon first scroll, I was captured by his use of light and his gift of storytelling via a stagnant yet dynamic image. His landscapes capture the beauty of the American Southwest that I have experienced and loved since my youth. Several of his paintings remind me of my summers in New Mexico where I would spend countless hours running through fields and then settling only at night under the moon that hovered above our tents. Mark Maggiori’s pieces arrest me with a nostalgia and a longing for simplicity, adventure, and undomesticated wildness. I hope his art sparks these same feelings for you. P.S. Below are four random facts about Maggiori that I couldn't seem to weave in anywhere, but are worthy of your admiration. 1. He has incredible style. And this denotes for me that his incredible taste doesn’t stop merely at his paintings, but extends into any medium he takes on. And this is inspiring.   2. He loves classic American cars. Check out the photo. Need I say more. 3. His impecable taste extends into his architectural design. This can be seen via his studio in Taos. It is an example of living art and a artistic breakway from the cookiecutter homes we find in suburbia. 4. Mark Maggiori has great music taste. I know this because of what he shares via his Instgram stories. His most recent share was from "Hermanos Gutierrez". When I saw that, I was flabberagsted as they are a smaller band and deserve many more flowers. My favorite song by them is "Cerca De Ti". Give it a listen.
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I am a lover of a well used sample.
And I would argue that Common's use of Bobby Caldwell's "Open Your Eyes" chours is one of the all time best. Bobby Caldwell, or better known as the "blue eye of soul", is beloved in the soul and r&b genre. You can hear his songs playing at the neighborhood cookouts and car shows. I grew up listening to Bobby Caldwell, and it wasn't until my teens that I discovered that he was a white man. I remember my jaw dropping just like when I found out the "The Bee Gees" were a group of white boys as well. Something about their silky voices and cool demeanor had me believing I was listening to black musicians. Furthermore R&b, especially in the 70s and 80s, when Bobby Caldwell emerged, was a genre dominated by black musicians. But, Bobby Caldwell broke into the genre and was not denied his rightful place as a voice in the scene. His lyrical poetry and jazzy melodies are well loved in the R&B genre, so much so that so many artists have sampled his work to pay him homage. One of my favorite songs from Bobby Caldwell (as there are many) is "Open Your Eyes". It starts out with just a soft melody and Bobby's unique voice singing slowly yet passionately. You can hear the yearning in his voice as he says, "I can see you, in a lonely place/ How can you be so blind./ You're still regretting the love you left behind/". He tries to convince his lover to "open your eyes” and asks her, "Are you expecting to find a love that is mine?". He wants to show her "the light". He is screaming for her surrender and love...trying to remind her that he is the place where her heart should land. It's an ache we all know. And the message is conveyed beautifully through a soft melody and Bobby's poetic wording. He then eases into a light-hearted rhythm that picks up in pace so as to mimic the racing of his heart as he anticipates her answer. It’s a love song, but it is also a song of desperation and uncertainty as we never know his lover’s choice. We just know that he has asked. This is one of Bobby's lesser known songs, but it has been forever immortalized by Common's now famous sample in his song "The Light". Common's rhymes lying on top of Bobby's smooth melody is musical love-making and is one of the best fusions of rap and r&b. Both songs hold a special place in my heart and a definite place in my song rotation, but Bobby Caldwell's original will always be king. I'm a sucker for a sample, but I am a sucker for that blue-eyed boy of soul. RIP Bobby Caldwell, you are well loved. P.S. Other songs I love from Bobby Caldwell include: 1. "My Flame" - This is a song I deeply love. Means a lot to me. And, I can only play it when I'm prepared to cry. 2. "What You Wont Do For Love" - His most famous song 3. "Heart of Mine" - A heartbreak song with some 80s synthesizer and saxophone
The thin chapters of my childhood are littered with the dialogues of family and strangers complimenting me with the confusing phrase, "You're an old soul". The phrase would slip from their lips as I questioned divinity, humanity, purpose, and free will. I'd often shrug my shoulders at the phrase, not knowing whether it was a compliment or some sort of curse. All I knew was that it felt true as I found myself pondering philosophy while dribbling my basketball in the back alley and worrying for the state of my soul while I played in the creeks of the Evergreen mountains. I was pensive yet playful; I was heavy in thought yet light with a sense of impending freedom...I guess that is what makes an "old soul". One of the first times I recall being called an "old soul" came at the age of six. I was belting out Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly With His Song" in my Grandpa Danny's cigarette smoke filled apartment. You would have thought I was in the local bar at the Thursday evening karaoke night with the performance I was putting on. I was crooning, swaying, closing eyes, holding my heart while singing with little assistance from the words that danced across the karaoke screen. That song was mine and my aunts and uncles would gather around and cheer me on as I sang that song of ache and abandonment. Even to this day, my Uncle Chris says he always thinks of me when he hears the song or its cover by "The Fugees" on the radio. My status as an "old soul" gained more and more footing as I found myself gravitating toward vintage design and styling, classic literature, and the now dead practice of burning CD mixtapes that were filled with 60s, 70s, and 80s music. I was ten years old dancing to 70s r&b in my bedroom, fifteen years old falling in love with Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter'' and seventeen years old driving my 1984 Toyota 4Runner through the Harvey Park neighborhood in order to admire the "California-Style" homes from the 70s. I have seemed to always ache for a time that was never mine, but I loved passionately anyways. When I reflect on all these loves in my life that have contributed to my “old soul” signature, I see a vein of similarity that permeates throughout…creativity, vibrancy, and novelty. When I look at the things that are considered "vintage", I see a break from the cookie cutter templates that we are currently functioning in our times. Architecture was creative and unpractical and I am sure it wasn't cost-effective as it wasn't concerned with protecting the "profit margins". Clothing was bright and colorful while being well-made in contrast to the blah functionality of the "Kirkland" specials that literally everyone is wearing. Our current design and styling is too much focused on "blending-in" and protecting the "practicality" and "comfortability" of everyday life that we have lost the fun and appeal of life. Instead, we are left with overly square homes that are called “modern” in place of the historical home in the new gentrified neighborhood. Instead we are left with chain restaurants and stores which create clones of society in every suburb of America. Everything is too blah, too streamlined, too sensible, too predictable. Personally, I would rather live in a world where people are impractical, fun, and expressive than one where we are minimalistic yet so obsessed with an image that has been developed via consumerism rather than by creativity and/or self expression. And, if that makes me an “old soul”, then I’ll take it.
I see the wisdom in expression, in color, art, and a well written novel that is free of SMUT (if you don't know what that is...google it...I just learned about it from a man I met in the sauna). I love a 70s playlist playing while I play a game of pool in my bellbottoms. I have no desire to “blend in” by assimilating into the trends of today in order to maintain some semblance of social status (which is just consumerism and “keeping up with the Joneses”).
I, instead, desire to move under the influence of self-expression and passion. I love what I love even if it crosses genres, eras, and niches. And by embracing the messiness of our own passions, desires, and loves…we find individuality…and the wisdom in expressing your own soul is what being an “old soul” is. It is the ability to unapologetically embrace yourself as you are, in all its mess and glory…no neat lines or boxes necessary. So, put the cookie cutters down and embrace the paintbrush. Bring color into the gray Kirkland ruled world. Decorate a space with thrifted treasures in lue of the Pottery Barn “latest”. Play the funk song that encourages movement in a calcified room. Stop watching “trend reports” and curate your own style. And please, for the love of god, express your soul in a world that seems to be losing its own. P.S. Read "Why Culture Has Come to A Standstill" at the New York Times if you'd like to further dive into the ponderings of why it seems culture has become so bland. I loved his point about how in the past we seemed to be pushing forward with creativity, but now we seem to only be pushing forward with technology and consumerism.
I first heard this song after I bought a Fleetwood Mac cassette for fifty cents from the thrift store. I was about 10 years old at the "ARC Thrift Store" next to that infamous pink building known as "Casa Bonita". At that age, I was a mere co-pilot on the thrifting adventures as I didn't have my own money nor a sense of style, yet (at this point, I was a hardcore tomboy who exclusively wore basketball shorts). So, instead of perusing aisles of colors, patterns, and outfit possibilities; I would spend my time sorting through stacks of CDs, cassettes, and records in that random aisle on the side of the store. On this particular Saturday, as I sifted through dusty piles of forgotten music, I was immediately struck by the cover art of a particular hard cassette case. It was a handsome man flagged by two women and I was struck by the lighting. It immediately reminded me of a painting that I had seen in the "Catholic Youth Center" of my childhood school. Here's a photo.  This painting, "Christ at the Column" by Caravaggio, hung humbly above the second-hand couches that lined the walls of the youth center. As I participated in the Bible Studies, I remember being drawn to that painting. Sure, my budding pubescent mind may have been initially drawn to the chiseled Christ (you don't really see that in Catholic school), but I was also enthralled by the lighting; how Christ is shown in full glow, while his persecutors are cast in shadow. Highly metaphorically, sure, but it is also hyper realistic. At that age, I wasn't aware of the names of artists nor the different eras, but I knew that I loved that painting.
So, as I came across the "Gypsy" cassette tape, I was immediately struck. The three characters on the cover were in a vivid battle of light and shadow, like that Caravaggio. I will admit that I bought that cassette merely for the cover art. And since it was only fifty cents, I figured it might be an easy sell to my parents. And I was right, I left that ARC thrift store with a new treasure. I went home, popped that cassette into my "boombox" and I've been enarmored ever since. As a child, I did not digest the lyrics...I mostly just loved the airy harmonies and then Stevie's raspy voice. The song made me feel good and I particularly loved the guitar solo at the very end of the song. It was a song that accompanied me while I danced alone in my bedroom, sang in the shower, and jumped on my trampoline (I used to prop my boombox in my bedroom window so that I could hear it as I played outside). But as an adult, the song is more than just a "feel-good" song, but instead I experience my own revelations and secrets in this song. I've been called a "gypsy" more than once in my life. Other synonyms include: "the free-spirit", "the life of the party", and "the girl who lives on a cloud of fun". I've always been delighted in this aspect of my personality, the ability to see the fun and magic around me. However, there have also been times where this gift has been diminished as being "delusional" or "illogical". I have felt that pressure to squash that freedom, that playfulness, that delight and at times I have succumbed to it. I've tried to button up my act, "grow up", and minimize my delight, but I have found that route of logic to be fruitless, boring, and counterintuitive. I found that living in a perpetual fear of "what ifs” and "worst case scenarios" is merely a desire for control and living doesn't happen in control. Control is fear incarnate and living in fear is both an addiction and a sanctuary for those who pride themselves on being "sensible". Instead of living in fear, I choose to live in flow; to dance and play in the flow of life. Because my existence, my miraculous existence, was meant to delight in the day and to play in this precise moment. I mean, think about it, our miraculous existence came to be from generations and generations of ancestors falling in love at a precise moment, then making love at a precise moment, and then that precise sperm and egg meeting....it's flabbergasting. We have one the lottery of all lotteries.....and you want me to be enslaved by logic and fear. No, thank you. I think my ancestors would be delighted in my playfulness and delight, especially those who have passed on and realized that they took their own lifes too seriously. Fleetwood Mac's song "Gypsy" may be an anthem for all those who are naturally "free-spirited", but I also think it encourages us to get back to "gypsy" that existed in you when you were free...maybe when you were a child. You hear this invitation when Stevie sings, "You see your gypsy" as the "lightning only strikes once, maybe twice". Life is precious. Delight in it. Smile. Dance. Play. And realize that it all ain't that important....all of it, seriously. In a couple generations you will fail to be remembered. And, I know that for some, that is nihilistic and depressing, but I find it freeing. This is your life. This is your story. This is your song to sing and dance to. I hope "you see your gypsy" and smile because "I still see your bright eyes". P.S. Stevie wrote this about herself...feeling that she was losing that gyspy side of her especially after losing her best friend to cancer. In the song, you can hear her grief and longing. And this is something I resonate with more as an adult. That is the beauty of music, it seems to grow with you and open up to you as life continues to flow on. P.S.S. Carvaggio is still one of my favorite painters. And, when I was in the convent, I printed out a copy of "Christ on the Column". The chiseled Christ rested in the folds of my "Divine Office" book. Yes, Nuns love a hot Jesus too.  The beauty of poetry is the spaces inbetween. That which is left unsaid. And the words that are set to spread in different directions. That is the main reason I love it. It is easy to flood out emotions in prose and to let your brain scatter and trail, but a poem requires the artist to strip, dissect, and redress. However, when I love a poem, and I’ve practiced my own literary criticism, my curious mind will long for an explanation. What was the inspiration? Was that double meaning intentional or did it reveal my own subconscious? Why did they use that word? I also, in my own poetry, find myself longing to reveal the gaps. To crack open the door of my inspiration while maintaining the beauty of the mystery. For, “Can I call you Rose?” I had few sources of inspiration. The first being a song from “Thee Sacred Souls” which is also titled, “Can I Call you Rose?”. This rising band is soulfully sweet and reminiscent of the music of the 60s. In my culture, we call this “cruising music”. No, not the cruising of the Bahamas, but instead the cruising that you do in your car down a busy boulevard. It’s music that you listen to when you’ve got nowhere to go. Their whole album is wonderful, but “Can I Call you Rose?” is lyrically romantic and touching. So much so, that I desired to imitate his stanza style and comparative nature. Another source of inspiration for the piece is rooted in the fact that “Rose” is a family name on my mother’s side of the family. My great-great grandmother’s name was Rose (Yes, I have that right. For the first 13 years of my life we had five generations living). She was an incredible woman who raised nine children in a dirt floored pueblo in Southern Colorado. And later in life, battled Alzhiemiers until her death at ninety-three. I remember visiting her daily after school with my mother and sisters. She wouldn’t always remember who we were, but she’d grace us with her stories and her quick sense of humor. I’d listen attentively while my mother painted her nails. She had such graceful fingers, long and strong yet fragile looking from her aging skin. Even today, I see her hands in the hands of my mother, the woman who once painted Rose’s. I am grateful for my time with her at the end of her life during the beginning of mine. It was through this experience, that I believe, I've never feared aging nor dying because it is all a part of this journey. And Rose did what Roses do, she bloomed for a moment in time, and then she bent her head and folded into the mystery. I do not know if she was the “first Rose” of the family, but her name continues as several of my family members now don that name as a middle name. Her legacy continues, not only in name, but in her nature. Her great-grandchildren, my aunts and mother, are Roses that grace this world. They are gorgeous, shapely, reserved and closed yet in full bloom. They have flourished despite the harsh conditions they were raised in following the early death of their mother at the age of 24 (my mother, the oldest, was just 9). They are symbols of love and perseverance by spreading the fragrance of love by never adopting the bitterness of victimhood nor comparison. They are Roses who stand tall and are sweet like a flower in bloom. My poem, “Can I call you Rose?”, has other sources of inspiration from my own story, but these two are the crack in the door. That is one of the reasons I love to write poetry…you can still hide while exposing yourself and only those who have the key can unlock it's full meaning. I encourage all of you to write your own poetry to capture the multidimensionality of your own heart and story. Notes: 1. "Thee Sacred Souls" are coming to Denver this Friday, August 25th. If you end up loving them, feel free to join me at the concert. 2. Here are the lyrics to "Can I Call You Rose?" by the Sacred Souls. Verse Two is probably my favorite. 3. The music video nods to its chicano influences with the lowriders, chicano style, and a cookout and dance floor. Check it out below and catch a groove or, better yet, go cruising. 4. Below is a photo of my Great-Great Grandma Rose with her husband Salomon and their nine children. This photo was taken in the 70s...gotta love Aunt V and Aunt Connie's fabulous frames and Uncle Ray's mustache.  Tyler Childers has had my heart since "Feathered Indians" and this new single, "In Your Love" from his upcoming project has been on repeat since its drop yesterday, July 27th.
The song and video is profound and gorgeous. Tyler's raspy voice carries his lyrics and heart while the visuals are heart wrenching. I will continue to le this song batter my heart as I await his next project. Listen, watch, and soak in its depths. Song: Dear Sahana
Artist: Sid Sriram Release Date: June 2nd I've always wanted to hear my own name in a song...and in this song I do not hear it, but I feel it. The song eases in slowly tieing to his lines, "just as quiet as dawn, you crept up on me". His voice and minimal musical accompaniments carry his heart's message and pierce forward. It is ethereal and comforting. But then, the song picks up in pace and rhythm after he says, "Oh, how I've tried to go on my own / every path seems to lead me back to you". The strong back beats convey his passion, his desire, his heartbeat. It is a quickening and an undeniability. A power, like a when the river gushes into the waterfall. It pours and overflows as he repeats the simple (not so simple) lyrics. Listen. Add it to your playlist and share it with your friends. This song has a mere 14k views on Youtube, but it is deserving of so many more. This song is on repeat in my life. Even now, I have it playing as I sit on my patio in the setting sun. I hope you're listening somewhere beautiful too. P.S. I love that the video is a "one take". No rehearsals, no retakes, no acting. You can see his genuinity and feel his heart.
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AuthorBrianna is a proud native of West Denver and she is an avid admirer of the arts. Her admiration of the arts is centered around her draw toward the beautiful and good of everyday life. Brianna finds beauty in a well-worn book, in the eclectic colors and textures of a thrift store find, and in the sound of a killer guitar solo whether it be live or through a well thought out Spotify playlist. Her passions are varied and many, but they all center on appreciating the fullness of life. Archives
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