Today is no ordinary Friday—oh no! This is Bandcamp Friday, a magical day when Bandcamp.com waives their fees so all the ethereal coins you spend go straight to us, the creators. 🌟

So, what spell have I cast for you today? I’m happy to announce the release of my new single, 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝐻𝒶𝒾𝓇.

The name is a nod to a Southern saying some of you may have heard: "got a wild hair up your ass." This saying gets tossed around when someone you think you know well does something unexpectedly audacious or out-of-character. A little cheeky, I know. But so befitting of the moment! Pull up a chair and I’ll share the tale of this song’s creation.

Rewind to 2017—I was on tour with Surfer Blood, and we found ourselves at Pappy & Harriet's in Pioneertown, California. Imagine a dusty desert roadhouse nestled snugly in the middle of nowhere, near Joshua Tree National Park. It was once a rendezvous for the legendary biker gang, Hell's Angels! With a stage set low to the floor and room for fewer than 150 souls, you would never guess the place has hosted icons such as Paul McCartney and Ani Di Franco.

After our set, I stepped outside for a pinch of peace. Sitting down at an empty picnic table, I glanced up and was captivated by the dainty crescent moon, as if placed there intentionally by an invisible film crew to add natural light to a scene in my life's movie.

In that moment, miles from a lover who wasn’t quite as footloose or as trusting as me, my mind ventured into the uncharted—how much of my wild, spontaneous self could I reveal without scaring them away? That was my own "wild hair" moment, and the song wrote itself right then and there.

So darling, take this as an invitation to let your own 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝐻𝒶𝒾𝓇 down. I wrote this one for you undercover freaks out there. May we be loved for all that we are.

[Click here to listen!]

<3 Lindsey

Do you remember the warm summer breeze, the sprinkle of cool rain, and the euphoria of zooming down A1A? If you were among the cosmic group who joined us for the inaugural 𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 𝖘𝖔𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖙𝖞 Full Moon Rollout on August 1, you'll know what I'm talking about.

Our alter egos gathered at the southern trail head, a vibrant mix of skates, blades, bikes, and boards, and under the pull of the Aquarius Supermoon, this enchanting coven of 12 souls took a cruise I won't forget.

I'm grateful to them all for lending their presence and their video footy to the music video for my song, "Secret Beach". It was such a joy creating this DIY-style with friends old and new. The final result showcases the Florida landscape in all its sun-kissed glory, and the magic that's possible when like-minded people come together.

The video is live today! Watch it on YouTube here.

<3 Lindsey

~

𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 𝖘𝖔𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖙𝖞 is:

Carly Cassano

Stephanie Cimino

Anneliese Coule

Ellen Coule

Mary Glazier

Ates Isildak

Lindsey Mills

Gada Peel

Laura Seaman

Sierra Spellwater

Sydney Squid

Christine Sylvain

Aquarius Supermoon ~ August 1 2023

I grew up in West Palm Beach, FL (where I still live today) in a household of musicians with a recording studio instead of a garage. I started my own label to release my first album of original songs in 2006 at age 16. Coming up in the era of file-sharing, Livejournal & Myspace, the DIY punk ethos resonated with me & to this day I keep it at the center of my creative process. I write, record & arrange my own music. I have self-released more than 50 songs. I design & fabricate my own album artwork, merch & promo media. I book my own shows, curate multifaceted events with other artists, DJ, perform for young children & even read tarot cards.

Starting in 2015, I had the privilege of touring the world with Surfer Blood. Then when the pandemic hit & I lost all my income overnight, I began looking for more sustainable ways to exist as an artist. I didn’t want to be beholden to the content-consumption machine anymore. I was burnt out from constant touring & the pressure to create new work in order to justify touring in the first place. I wanted to keep making art~ but I wanted to do it in community with people who actually care about each other as human beings. I decided to redesign my music career with a mind for sustainable growth & real connection.

I fell into NFTs in December 2021 & I'm now fully blockchain pilled. I love experimenting with new ways to share my art, new means of supporting myself, new paths to connection. Some of my big dreams are to:

• onboard more women & nonbinary folks to web3,

• empower them to release their own work as part of the Salt Witch metalabel,

• utilize a Salt Witch DAO treasury to acquire land in central Florida where sugarcane production has seriously damaged the environment

• & alongside this family of creatives, help restore the ecosystem, build tiny homes, grow food & make art.

~

Whew, ok now that you kinda know who I am, dear anon, on to today’s juicy announcement!!!

My goal for 2023 is to release one new song a month… & I will have the distinct pleasure of creating digital first pressings of many of these demos on Catalog!! I stan for their proposition that music is valuable all by itself & I’m honored Crittie (one of my first web3-native friends <3) chose me to become a part of the Catalog fam.

Through the sale of these 1-of-1 collectibles, I hope to raise enough funds to hire my dream band & turn these songs into a full-length studio album in 2024!

The first song from this new project is called 𝖘𝖆𝖉 & 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑. It’s about the naive arrogance of Orpheus. I really love Brazilian music & drew a lot of inspiration from the movie Black Orpheus~ one of my top 5 of all time, I highly recommend!! Soundtrack by the sublime Jobim. Please enjoy.

A witch went foraging for bolete mushrooms one balmy afternoon after a rainstorm. She frolicked through the red fescue, trailing yellow skirts stained with the muddy earth, her leather pouch bouncing on the belt at her waist. Sweat glistened on her forehead and her smile glowed right off her face. 

Once she broached the glen, the light went dim and shadows played tricks on her eyes as she searched the wet ground for signs of any porcini. She bent beside a redwood to peep into the witch-sized hole in its trunk, hoping for a bolete cache… when suddenly, a yellow blobby forest spirit sprang from the hole, scurried over a gigantic tree root and disappeared, leaving a cloud of tiny purple spores in its wake.

The witch reeled as the spores filled her nostrils, her vision blurring… then going dark… at last her gaze filled with pinprick stars. She wondered if she had died. She wondered if she was still on the way to unconsciousness…

She realized she was floating through space.

A quick glance around revealed that her body was totally in tact and unchanged in any way - except that it would seem she was somehow transported by that mushroom dust to a distant galaxy where she was now disconcertingly untethered, floating, in deep black nothing.

She felt utterly bereft. She feared she had stupidly stumbled into her own astral banishment and would never again emerge fresh from the forest and lousy with porcini. She fretted she would never get to simmer them in butter before serving them to her friends with just a sprinkle of parsley. For a moment it felt as if the breath had been torn from her chest… 

And yet she was in fact breathing normally, no spacesuit to speak of! Come to think of it, those blobby forest spirits are known for some pretty fancy parlor tricks. She resolved to try to end the hallucination with a chant:

“Sky above. Earth below. Fire within.”

She repeated the words and repeated them, over and over until she felt dizzy. Finally, the starry blackness appeared to be ripped from her vision like a table cloth off of a table, revealing the canopy of the good old redwood forest where she made her home.

“Sky above. Earth below. Fire aaaaaants FIRE ANTS!!!”

She abruptly stopped her chanting and leapt off the ground beside the redwood hole, realizing in a whole new wave of terror that red ants were gnawing at her ankles and neck as she lay paralyzed by the forest spirit spores. With no time left for frolicking, the witch sprinted to the pond she knew nearby, shrugged her dress off at the pond’s edge like it was aflame, and still shrieking, dove in. 

zinnia, the deep beach, ever a sifter of the sands of time, picked up a prismatic hourglass from among the many glass vessels that lined each surface of the solarium. They turned it over thoughtfully, and the oolitic sand that glistened inside began to tumble inexorably down. Oolite, the smoothest of all sands, is formed on the seafloor. While underwater, the surface of each tiny grain teems with bacteria who have shaped their world for millennia with this limestone substrate. So now does zinnia shape their little corner of the wilds with the bacteria’s sandy remains: if a storm brews outside, you can be sure they intend to transfigure the oolite gleaming on the beach into precious glass. 

“I feel the onset of a Mood Indigo,” remarked zinnia as they turned to fix their blindfolded gaze to the east, toward the obsidian clouds which roiled like hot liquid over the sea. Meanwhile, their sistren, apricot the absorbant and persimmon sky attended the scrying glass. Every so often, this trinity met at the intertidal fissure where mountains and sea enmesh. You see, they desired to conjure a bolt of lightning from that foreboding sky. They wished to channel their unified will to direct it precisely where their kiln-fired ooid moulds lay buried beneath the sand.

“Big storm beckoning!” replied apricot and persimmon in unison. The three SEERS shared the same strange black, sightless eyes, lined in glowing white, a mark of their affinity for this kind of alchemical magic, since a SEER possesses a sight far beyond what the ordinary eye can perceive. zinnia joined their sistren at the flat scrying mirror made of highly polished black tourmaline, which balanced at waist height on the point of a three-sided glass pyramid. They laced their hands and voices together and a low, almost visible humming began to emanate from them. When you seek to create with their dark materials, the weird wilds require a show of respect—some recognition of their deadly paradox: After Creation, Destruction. After Destruction, Creation. The SEERS entwined their minds around a single mantra, repeating:

No Mud, 

No Lotus

Suddenly an earsplitting peal of thunder rang out that shook the glass panels of the solarium. A blinding flash of light and....

~~~~~

They pierced across the moonlit shore, eager to find the spoils of their lightning spell. The sky and sea had grown quiet, and the only sounds were muffled giggles and the soft swish of sand beneath slippers. zinnia stopped dead when the scent of hot beeswax alerted their nostrils that their prize was close at hand, and persimmon quickly bent to dig where a thin wisp of smoke streamed from the ground. apricot unfurled a thick blanket of braided turquoise fibers in the sand beside them, its woven lattice of glass beads each reflecting the full moon like so many tiny eyes. They howled their joy as they uncovered the cache of pearlescent pitchers, pipes and figurines, placing each one gingerly onto the mat. Though some of the pieces emerged from their moulds missing handles or lopsided, they rejoiced not in their perfection, but in their uniqueness—for a SEER does not seek perfection, knowing it is an illusion as fleeting as lightning.

[This is my Livejournal ;)]

Maybe it’s nostalgia…

…maybe it’s the Millenial urge to find real love while making a fast fortune on the internet…

…but lately I see all things web3 with a holographic sheen. I’m lit up with the potential here.

If you’re reading this, isn’t it delicious? To be, as Alexis Ohanian so presciently put it, “early and right”?

When I look back on my Livejournal days, I see a teenage fixation on identity. I see my true self, my inner goof, a dimpled smirk behind the screen, unsure if my weird belonged anywhere. Trying on angles and filters to see if they’d make my weirdness go away. Feeling I needed to fit a mold of…

white thin hairless virginal good-girl-but-who’s-down-for-whatever

…to be worthy of love.

(The Millenial urge to mistake Mean Girls for reality.)

Sup I’m 32 now and idgaf what ppl think !!!!!

On this day

…02/02/2022…

I hereby claim these weird wilds within, and I call out into the æther for my kin - lemme know if you can hear me <3