By Ana Lola Roman
Last week we lost stylist/muse/fashion writer futurist extraordinaire, Anna Piaggi. Every generation loses someone pivotal that came before them; a film star, a thought leader, a president, a rock star, those denizens who made it before you and everyone else. They are not to be feared, but they are to be watched…closely. While alive and amongst the living it’s the craziest, most outrageous, vulnerable, and volatile artists that somehow get their points across. Points that burst the bubble, points that make people uncomfortable, and points that break silence. That’s what Bushwick is to me. Crazy, vulnerable, volatile and aching to burst. This neighborhood makes no one comfortable, and that’s the beauty of it.
Since moving to Bushwick in August of 2011, it has taken me awhile to get acclimated to the particular brand of creativity and chaos in the neighborhood. Fast and cosmically, I was thrust into a lost boy/girl gang of manic, hardworking, KIND, collaborative, and ambitious individuals that have inspired me to write about them. They have inspired me to break my own boundaries and veer away from my regular paths of creativity. As a singer, songwriter, beat-maker, and electronic musician, it’s too easy to always surround myself with other musicians. I risk over-specialization if that happens. It’s much healthier for me to challenge myself in writing, to surround myself with stylists, visual artists, poets, photographers, and Martians. These individuals are my muses, my inspirations, future friends, and co-conspirators. They orbit around me and make it possible for me to create sounds, atmospheres, and vocalize what the world is feeling and seeing through music. Oh, and I just simply want the world to know about them too.
All photographs by Thérèse Maher.