Billie Eilish by Takashi Murakami for Garage Magazine Issue 16

Billie Eilish’s brand of brilliancy blends with Takashi Murakami outlandish excess, in captivating cover by Juno Calypso for Garage Magazine. There tends to be individuals in all societies who challenge tradition. Thereby shaping true change. Billie seems to be one of those rare people. I cannot deny, I’m drawn to her deep interest in the avant-garde. I find her countenance utterly compelling. Her words truly telling. That combination can be insightful. Her artistry allows for opposing elements to live in the same atmosphere. To rise up and be heard. This story is about the heroine who walks through hell. I believe a heavy dose of pain can be found on the Pathway to Poetic Discovery. These are all symbolic signs of change. Words can cut as they calm. Marked by the crusading spirit of idealism. Billie’s words have power. Her willingness to express in raw, unencumbered verses makes her sound true fusion.

There are empty holes in place of the pupil, signifying the windows into her soul. Billie’s multi-colored eyes are made to mimic crazy contacts, with the iris looking like a bullseye. Split photography, hence the name of the Murakami’s original showcase, applies trick methods to get the abstract imagery. The result is hypnotizing. This face-inside-a-face indicates the idea of rebirth. A picture that reflects depth and reflection. Thereby shaping change. Exposure to opposing themes is uncomfortable by nature. To take you away from the places that appease to tantalize you with concepts that tease. That is how the bravado of her brave music speaks to me. It takes hold in a deep place, not unlike the extreme visual content I often explore. She’s a Female Full of Fire.

Patti Wilson captures the theme of laid-back couture, with styles that revive our sense of adventure. To her, chaos and creativity aren’t contradictory. Fashion is meant to inspire it’s viewers through tactile pleasure. Dynamic designs fuse as layers of bold fabrics fall atop each other. Her creative face splits in focus asking your mind to react. Like a puzzle coming into view each piece plays a part. A mirrored backdrop gives the illusion of many, while wild reflections make her appear semi-robotic. Everything doesn’t demand a happy ending, rather it requires a dose of healthy discovery. Fashion never felt so street with looks that redefine what means to be chic. Primary colors pop off the page inciting a riotous rage. Future, fashion flavors play dramatic as designs stay on the eclectic side. Samuel Paul’s simple makeup highlights Billie’s features, with wide-set eyes and perfect lips, while not taking away from the star of the show… her contact high.

I am one who believes that the pathway to poetic discovery is pain. Like the great Billie Holiday… true treasure is found in the tyranny of truth. These two vocal phenoms don’t just share first names, they seem to share a signature tone. Their Voices Lay Over Tracks Like Whiskey Over Broken Glass. It’s hard for your ears to accommodate such distinction, but when it does, you can’t imagine how you’ve existed for so long without the soulful sound. Eilish’s phraseology provides shocking impact. Ensuring masterful prowess. Her instincts are unique. Unlike anything I’ve heard, her sound sinks into the soul. That is such a gift. I am a word hunter. Verbiage is a strange bedfellow. It can rise you to heights you never dreamed possible, and can lower you to depths you never knew existed. That’s the message of her songs. Embrace the contradictory spirit of chaos and just jump, “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?“.

Sisyphus in Spirit…

lost in vain

scorned disdain

disenchanted youth…

fighting to find

bend in my mind

will bring me back

to truth…

songs come forth

in fluid phrase

music greets us

with a soulful gaze

beats set to rhythm

are borne to rhyme

as they travel down

the party line…

divine in speculation

objects of desire

frivolity of revelry

sure to start a fire…

truth is not a tale

love is not a crime

calling on the spirits

to capture the sublime…

for this is where we

hear the screams

set inside my

sanguine dreams

when I’m lost

I find my ground

falling into solid sound…

for in silence I know

that falseness is hell

expose me as I am

rip me of this shell

forsaking my sanity

my passion, my will

of Sisyphus in Spirit

I’ll push this rock ~

up this hill.

poetic prose – tanyajo