bass-goddess

Esperanza Spalding

God I’ve loved her for forever.  I’m so happy she won the Grammy for Best New Artist.  I thought it was hilarious when they announced her and I was like “YEEESSSS!” while my mama and sister were like “who??”  She’s the shit.  Go listen to her and love her.  I aspire to be her.  Forreal.  

Feminine Medicine - 2015 

This piece was originally created for this beautiful collaborative project cultivated by multiple talented goddesses. Please check it out over at kickstarter. Also there are limited edition signed canvas prints of this piece available as a pledges until they are gone. 

Come and support here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/630282426/feminine-medicine-music-project

Artwork by Olivia Curry

DreamNectar.com

Imagine Adam Clayton giving you bass lessons. Suddenly, you start to become good at bass, and before you know it, you see that your skin has turned to gold. Beams of light start to surround you when you play. You are now the official goddess of bass, mentored by the almighty god of bass.

Like heralds of Galactus, the band @mangchihammer arrive amidst purple rays and cosmic dust on stage at the Republik, to alert the room that the funk is coming. Money Mark hits the keys, rocking a cooler bag helmet to ward off negative vibes. Eddie Kim takes control of the noisemakers, helmsman of the crew like Sulu with the Enterprise, only his flourishes are from the buttons he presses. Heather Leather floats in with her cape, the Bass Goddess ready to strike. Dylan Fujioka stomps towards the drums, a victory walk after breaking Yao Ming’s angles. Ceci warps in out of Austin Powers’ universe to bring the love. And the circle completes with SteeBeeWeeBee, clad in coveralls, ready to work the crowd, with his chameleon goggles to scan for lizard people in his midst. And the funk arrives early.

The funk paced itself, getting comfortable with a crowd not quite ready for its arrival. Although they may have been unprepared, the crowd soon attunes to the funk’s presence. So much so that when it’s about to take a break, the funk incites the crowd to crash into each other in frenzy, all in its name. The heralds have done what they came to do.

Thank you, Mangchi for landing here in Honolulu, and I can’t wait till your spaceship comes back.

#TheseAreThePeopleThatIWantToBeWith (at The Republik)

Like heralds of Galactus, the band @mangchihammer arrive amidst purple rays and cosmic dust on stage at the Republik, to alert the room that the funk is coming. Money Mark hits the keys, rocking a cooler bag helmet to ward off negative vibes. Eddie Kim takes control of the noisemakers, helmsman of the crew like Sulu with the Enterprise, only his flourishes are from the buttons he presses. Heather Leather floats in with her cape, the Bass Goddess ready to strike. Dylan Fujioka stomps towards the drums, a victory walk after breaking Yao Ming’s angles. Ceci warps in out of Austin Powers’ universe to bring the love. And the circle completes with SteeBeeWeeBee, clad in coveralls, ready to work the crowd, with his chameleon goggles to scan for lizard people in his midst. And the funk arrives early.

The funk paced itself, getting comfortable with a crowd not quite ready for its arrival. Although they may have been unprepared, the crowd soon attunes to the funk’s presence. So much so that when it’s about to take a break, the funk incites the crowd to crash into each other in frenzy, all in its name. The heralds have done what they came to do.

Thank you, Mangchi for landing here in Honolulu, and I can’t wait till your spaceship comes back.

#TheseAreThePeopleThatIWantToBe With (at The Republik)