“Inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we are.” – José Saramago in ‘Blindness’.
In the journey to find meaning in our personal narratives, it’s often we find ourselves turning to external source material, for in house inspiration. Taking notes from the internalised intrigue of those before us, those beside us, and the ones quicker to reach pen and paper, we’re able to seek solace in the depths of isolation and uncover creativity in our personal retreat; as was the case for Maripool (Natasha Simões), who shares her Strong Island Recordings debut ‘Blindness’, following a quest with author José Saramago and his take on ‘Blindness’.
Spring is coming and renewal follows suit. As the days dare to show their face a little longer and the East Wind brings forth a promise of crisp joy, ‘Blindness’ captures the aerial melancholy that swirls between the delightful wonders of articulated shoegaze, and a witching hour state of deep-blue dreaming.
Engulfing-ly woozy in every aspect of the words curved satisfaction, in ‘Blindness’, Maripool delivers plain sighted nourishment- the taste of re-fresh-to-come and a yearning to dim the lights and embrace a bit of moody-ambience; a feat to which direction is everything and the meaning of contentedness is endlessly croonin’ guitar licks.
Guilelessly adorned with a new-perspective held close to the heart, this is a maturer tale than previous ventures, and Maripool elates levitated enchantment like the winged beauty of a Lo Moth; mindfully spinning out winged flourishes so when the listener lifts up their spirits in a display of delicate grandeur, two soft brown eyes reveal themselves between the grooved fuzz of “yellow” and all is well with the world once again.
Photo by Carina Simoes