A slow-burn, simplistic existence, unwavering in its unsteadiness. Sometimes, hours last minutes; and some minutes-hours. A book read by candlelight, a slow dance in the full-moon’s light. A red-eye flight, under star speckled night sky. A slow-burn, simplistic existence. Vinyl record on the turntable, the final minutes of a sunset, long Friday nights out, rainy days inside the house. Painted skies and deep seaside eyes, warm July’s, adventures improvised. red painted lips and finger tips, uncomplicated, the world transfixed. A slow-burn simplistic existence. Harmonies, melodies, and broken chords, nickel strings and rosewood fingerboards. Sounds percolate, life’s symphony resonates, as i spend my day the simple way.
Maddox is a student, a son, and a musician.