Micropixie is an artist out of San Fran who has lived all over the places. She’s also chic, sincere, and on Twitter and has won me over on that alone. Maybe there’s another thing worth saying too. If beige is more than a color and also where life and art meet for MPX the cosmic gypsy, who knows, maybe a single foot does make a new statement about ordinary life here at home on earth.

Have a listen now that you’ve been warned, this and the rest of her work is seriously spunky, awesome, and important:

Who thinks about feet and comes up with a daydream about race and identity? Really? Seriously.

Hopefully, the same kinda experience hits people in the gut and they come out of the intergalactic coma singing a pop opera like Zach from Beirut or finding a voice to match a jazzy tone like MPX did about feet. The whole connection here makes me smile, maybe you too:

In a post about the take-away show in Paris, a writer for La Blogoteque retells Beruit’s history:

Beirut has grown from a solo bedroom project to a band of up to ten people; it’s a band, but not a band. It’s a happy mistake, a mess. A group of noisy, undisciplined, joyful people who took over an entire terrace on Oberkampf, gathering around the tables, spreading their instruments and cases, everyone playing songs in their own world… Such a messy, smiling anarchy that we thought they’d never manage to play the song.

Soul, courage of spirit, and depth are part of everyone’s history, I think, but the story can be broken, taken, stolen, and borrowed and life’s a mess sometimes. Even if you keep it together or diva trick the world into believing you rule, bad things happen, people are ugly, and life isn’t fair. Heartache sucks and love stinks and growing up is tough.

All we know is what can and has happened and the option to start a story again is a nice twist that MPX offers up in her music. If life is change, imagination is as real as actual experiences, and creativity happens as a fact of life, then it’s a open question. Somewhere along the way, we have a chance to dive deep into relationships or stay in the shallow end and debate the right time to pick up the phone and the right person to call. Maybe instead you choose you.

I have a feeling MPX’s space travel gives the gypsy a worthwhile place to call home and a heart that wanders and does not belong in the world but her chest. Maybe later it’s a foot that brings a cosmic statement back down to earth so people get the message and take a stand, do a little dance, and make a little of love in the world.

Maybe everything changes, maybe nothing changes. Truth is, I’m kinda sick of the same old story. Either way, I’m down.