Quiet, simple is what I knew about it then. I could give you a past; I could give you today or recall the history of everyday people who meant something into my next encounter. It was my vocation just to be and see what happened. I was traveling the streets of San Francisco, checking out stores and restaurants, writing and observing. I was revived on Market Street, cut as fresh as the yellow and white daffodils that bloomed in their gypsy garden carts. How sweet is the bustle of 18 years of age? How new and fascinating the faces were to me, however weathered or broken. Their working days gone, old men, well beyond their present age, now sit in Union Square waiting for a hand out to buy another bottle of wine. Above the lonely din hovered one…
If you were following the Seattle scene in the 80’s, you most likely and luckily were inspired and moved by the music of Michael Tomlinson. I’ve just recently discovered his songs, and had only one thing to say to him, “Where have you been all my life!? I feel so fortunate to have stumbled upon his music on Pandora.” If you want to hear the folk pop we treasured back in the day, this is as good as it gets, and his facebook page is a delight to read. Yes, there are people who write in full sentences that resonates with human warmth. Michael is one of them. His new album is filled with mellifluous melodies and uplifting, poetic lyrics that will linger in your mind and move your spirit.
I am certain that the waters that flow into the veins of all mankind can feel the moment when awe and wonder reappear. There in a pocket, is a discovered button, a single peppermint scooped up and tucked away for another time when a sweet tooth calls for a refreshing ahah moment. The doorways of enchantment are seen in the corners of a room waiting for redecorating with live red berry vines carefully stapled into the kitchen window. In as much as there are dreams, and blue willow plates set out for tea; there are friends that come to visit.
On the balcony a man lights a candle in the moonlight, waiting for one encouraging call from a night owl that waits out the late with him in solid hoots that echo through the trees. No, I am not making this up, these moments happened. They are collected in my memory like a living scrapbook. I look up to the stars glinted and faceted as clouds mover through in an opalescent glaze of silver light, constant and unassuming of their sheer natural beauty. It comes to them in the original fire of that which they are born of and now live on in a new form.
Moving now into the golden turn where nothing is secret and only love prevails to hold us all together… I feel the kindness of lakes slowly swooshing sensually onto the shore. Out in the woods the leaves rustle and bend the tree to dance, “where are you it sings, where have you gone? Are you knotting the tails to the kite? Are you playing the song from the old 78? Have you read the cereal box today and drank the milk from the bottom of the bowl?”
Pieces of precious past times are neatly chipped out of my memory box, made into beads that I wear around my ankles to remind me of the time I walked barefoot through the grass.
Cinematic track for Journey of Fairy Tales – Opening paragraph
The journey was arduous, not even the brightest bird could follow across the stormy seas, but in Isla’s heart was a brave, and bold resolve to make it across the turbulent waters; however tumultuous the ride may become was of no matter. To be dissuaded or abandon the cause was out of the question; for she knew there was a treasure worthy of saving, if not for his kingdom but for herself, and all the children of Emeria to follow. There was a faint whisper of fragrant jasmine in the air. She could hear the children of yesterday offering burning incense, waved into wispy, curling prayers upwards through the universe, their hearts one wind chime; floating their joyous callings to the heavens. Their prayers saw their way through deep space and further yet out across the sea. The waves rocked the boat, pouring it forward over the crests closer to the shore. The Books of Leaves stolen from the heart of Emeria, would be recaptured in time.
I wasn’t a very quite child by nature. I talked a lot, and thought everyone should listen to me. I thought that it was expected of me to keep the conversation going, or maybe I was a little to precocious to know any better. Fortunately for me I believed in everything I said and felt confident in expressing myself. Oftentimes I emulated the best of my made up characters from my imagination; trying on personalities like hats. I was creating myself from plays, and movies that I admired; I was the song that I wrote on, inventing harmonies for the present moments I found myself in. I always sang. That was who I liked being best of all. Life was a musical, and when it wasn’t, I was bored, detached from who I really was. It was a more than a pastime; it was a state of…
Laura Botsford is an artist. And I don’t just mean in the musical sense. Visual arts are also a creative outlet for her. Collages seem to be a speciality of hers and when it comes to music, this also seems to be her strength, musical collages, or as Laura calls them “I coalesce the vapors”.
This album fuses a number of genres and collects a wide variety of instruments as well. The danger with this style of production, is amalgamating mismatched themes and instruments, leading to a cacophony of sound that never settles down to be a listenable, engaging tune. Well thankfully, Laura has not fallen into that unfortunate, well worn rut, that so many producers end up in. “Aquarium Funk” is engaging and musical on so many levels and well worth your listening time. If you are a fan of Jazz, Hip Hop, Soul and a melting pot of…