Well here we are, already halfway through October. Up in Maine we're reaching that delicate moment of balance that comes every fall, the leaves almost to peak foliage, some fallen and rustling underfoot, some still christening the trees with their most vivid colors. It feels like everyday the message of balance – and really, of balancing – meets the senses. The nights are cold, the days sunny and warm. On the first of the month I passed a perfect string of morning glories wrapped around someone's front porch railing, but a few days later they were gone, leaving only a spindly vine clinging to the cold metal. There's an aura of musky premonition in the air. Each passing day I seem to think we’re at the turning point, that we’ve reached the climax of fall beauty. Yet another day passes and I’m still unsure.
I’m haunted by the idea that I’ll never know the peak when it’s here, but only after it's gone.
Everyone I’ve talked to recently has been experiencing this kind of feeling, to be honest – caught in a strange sort of middle-ground area where things are hanging in balance. Perhaps it's the season, or even the glitch-happy Mercury retrograde (if you follow the stars) that's been veiling most of the month so far. I've noticed lots of folks kind of waiting anxiously in this switchover moment between what was and what's coming… wanting their ducks in a row, but at the same time wondering what that really means. Issues from the far past are bubbling up and people are re-examining old patterns, many laid in childhood, for the first time in a while. Change is afoot, but right now it doesn’t feel like it’s presenting itself clearly. Have we peaked? Or is it still coming? And what lays on the other side?
This month’s offerings are meant to inspire the notion of artful change: flying blind between states of then and now, and walking into unknown futures with the courage to look clearly at the past. Along with the monthly playlist, you’ll find a smattering of soulful tidbits from my old friend John Mosloskie, a multitalented artist who croons under the solo moniker Gutter Sparrow, has toured with the likes of The War On Drugs, and more recently has launched The JEM Bazaar where he brings discarded and forgotten treasures back from the dead, giving them new life and indeed new homes. We caught up this week in an interview where we talk about riding the poetic – and at times painful – line between discovery and recovery, both necessary practices for making it through uncertain times ♡
In moments that feels hung between then and now, this playlist conjures the pause where we get to try on different roles we might want to embody for the next leg of the journey. It pines love, longs for beauty, rests, remembers, jumps, spitfires, pulls itself up from the floor, dances, proclaims, laments, and listens, listens, listens...
Interview with musician, artist & entrepreneur John Mosloskie, on the intimacy of repairing broken things, viewing life as a giver-of-gifts, and launching a new furniture and design gig, The Jem Bazaar, in a world changed – and still changing – through the ongoing pandemic.
This month's featured artist, John Mosloskie, makes his solo music under the moniker Gutter Sparrow as a vocalist, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist. Link below brings you to his most recent album on Spotify, The Waker Dreams. Insider secret: Song #4, Sheridan, was written about one of his last trips to visit us in Maine. Of course it's my fav ♡ Make sure to follow his artist page on Spotify to be the first to hear the next record drop in 2022 ♫
It's a real treat to check out The Jem Bazaar, a treasure trove of vintage furniture and home appliances lovingly rehabbed by hand and purveyed by artist John Mosloskie. Based in the NYC-area, you can buy his wares via Instagram – just DM him if you're interested in an item. For those located elsewhere, all wares can be shipped. If you're sentimental like me and get inspired by objects from yesteryears, you'll love his stuff.
Sending you all energy towards navigating between times,
and letting all that comes up there be an instrument of growth
towards your next leg of the journey.
~ Caitlin ~