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the piano that i fuck you on

and on which I write these songs (for you)

are one in the same

and that goes for us too

i’d give you my name..

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@danielcaesar

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@danielcaesar

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@danielcaesar

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Just on my way out from a visit to the contemporary art museum in the city, I ran into Danny. Yes. This 19 year old Violet and Pseudo singer was casually wandering around the west side of downtown Toronto. Danny, out of his condo which he now calls his new home. His natural, long uncombed hair aside, he didn’t seem to be much different in appearance since I saw him last.

Oh, by the way my visit to the gallery was thought-provoking. The arts that they were exhibiting were much more conceptual than I thought when I first visited; A broken (torn) wall paper, an empty dark jazz bar, lots of projector screens & TVs with narratives of the artists. They were sort of too abstract for me to be honest so I eventually gave up on trying to explicate what the artists meant to describe in these art pieces. Sometimes these artists scare me. Anyways it was free entry so I gave Danny a tour of that for about 15 minutes and we both came to the conclusion that we still had no idea what we were attempting to see in these arts (he assumed that some shadow looked like a helicopter and that was as far as we got).

After a short stroll down the Queen St. West, he took me to his initial destination. A boutique with lots of designer thrifty stuff, of course. As we all know the iconic Daniel Caesar attire; the wannabe Kanye West oversized T-shirt, a granny’s vintage button-up shirt, skinny jeans, and vans. Of which are all his “starter pack" gears. I might be wrong. But he’s always had an infatuation with these low-key designer clothes. I mean this thrift store had it all. It was like the Daniel Caesar Starter Pack packages stacked on shelf, ready to be shipped and delivered — is probably the accurate description of it without naming the store. I’m just saying. But I’m being extra.

After having some more great time shopping and chatting and strolling, he told me about his future intention. He seemed to be pretty content and relaxed where he is in his life right now and I’m happy for him. He mentioned that he was just focusing on writing for now as he works during the week in a mean time. He also talked about working on his new music video soon. I can’t wait to see that too as he didn’t disappoint me at all on the last music video “Violet.” You’d think that Youtube is only counting your views because the video certainly does deserve more notices. Here’s the link if you haven’t seen it yet so you can sleep tonight. But I’m sure you’ve already seen and replayed it for at least 5 times.

Ok, I have so many things to do now, and I have a meeting tomorrow morning called Brunch at Denny’s (sounds much more appetizing, and affordable, than Breakfast at Tiffany’s right?), so I’ve got to go ok thanks.

danielcaesar

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A Jazz Lady

A poem piece I had to write for my school assignment only ending each line with either “sing” “light” “eyes” “gold” “piano” or “moment” then shuffling them at each stranza. It makes no sense but I like this poem.

The crowd has been waiting for her to sing Lady, a dark silhouette under the spot light Her red lipstick; thrilling to the eyes And her revealed skin; dripping in gold She raises her eyes--exhales with piano Moment of silence; the crowd now gasps in the moment

Anticipation; stillness of moment Labyrinth of her misery she sings Softness colliding with smooth piano Their coffee cups trembling under dim lights But they listen in noble state, like gold She refuses to look into men's eyes

No commitment. They could tell by her eyes Although could they barely see, a tempting moment She shows off no emotion but her gold Sadness in her voice, continues to sing She says, "There is no hope, there is no light." The lyric echoing with piano

No more tenderness, mezzo-piano Broken heart of the soul through bitter eyes Crowd, absorbed in the midst of the moon light And now engaged in depth of this moment 'Cause every man so eager to hear her sing She cares them not, but their status of gold

"What is life to men," she says, "...without gold?" Mournful dissonance of the piano, As if to ache her heart in grief. --She sings As if she means. It is all in her eyes. Captivating; encountering her moment. She owned her shadow even without a light

It was as if night hid the lights Stage; the only place to shine. They named her "Gold" Presence of this light, nostalgic moment They admired her sing with piano Though they knew they could never catch her eyes Only hope which kept them to hear her sing

Fading of lights, dulling the piano Shadows of Gold now disappears from the eyes End of moment with the Lady who sings