Mary Gauthier Archives -

JB

By Simone Lipscomb | September 3, 2023

I didn’t know what to say.

It took a while, but gradually it began to sink in and memories began to flash and emotions arose. Friends…Hans and Renee at Lulu’s with the surprise Freddy and the Fishsticks free show during the oil spill….Greensboro and the dive club—building and setting up a tiki bar, offering refreshments to strangers passing by…the concert at Auburn when I was attending college there…Raleigh and lightning so bad I thought we’d all die on the aluminum bleachers…Pensacola and my pal Milton…Jazz Fest in New Orleans…so many amazing memories of concerts, but that’s just a small part of the sweetness.

Jimmy Buffett was basically a home-town boy, from where I grew up, that used his smarts and talent to soar to the stars with ideas and creativity. He built a freaking empire of Parrot Heads and was able to capitalize on fun and sun and letting go of worries. He did something incredible with the life he was given. That’s impressive…and inspiring.

As I reflected on JB today, I saw how his music is interwoven into the story of my life. And so many other lives. What a legacy to leave behind.

He brought an intense focus on loving the Ocean, one of my passions. He championed manatees, as he supported Save the Manatee Club. He connected us to our Mother Ocean.

(*When I was documenting the oil spill along the Gulf Coast in 2010*)

When I asked Siri to play Jimmy Buffett this morning this is what I heard, “Mother Mother Ocean, I have heard your call. Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall, You’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all.” That song was a reminder of my call to dive under the surface and experience the underwater world of coral reefs, humpback whales, dolphins…the salt has always been in my blood. It’s my favorite song written by Jimmy. (A Pirate Looks at Forty).

Growing up on the Alabama coast, so much of the soundtrack of my life was JB’s music because I could relate to what he was singing about…the salt air, open water. His poet’s soul called to mine, and helped me walk the path of my heart.

I’m not saying I continued to listen to his music so much after I rounded 50. I didn’t attend concerts since the last one in Pensacola with my buddy, Milton. It became too much, too many people, too much chaos. The thing I love about his music wasn’t in the mass of drunken people. As I grew into middle age, I found his music became more of a foundation that led me to songwriters he worked with, so my musical horizons expanded and I met people like Will Kimbrough, who wrote with Jimmy, and creates amazing songs, and Mary Gauthier, who wrote Wheel Inside the Wheel, one of my favorite ‘JB’ songs.

It seems a lot of musicians are leaving us these days, yet they leave behind a legacy of music that continues to feed our souls and help us reflect on our lives. The reflection on my younger years seems to happen on a deeper level every time one of our legends crosses over into that endless place of dreams. Unwinding from where I am now, I journey back to growing up on the Gulf Coast, relationships, friendships…life choices that completely changed my life’s trajectory because I chose to live fully, jumping in with wild abandon.

Congratulations JB on a life well-lived. And thank you.

All photographs by Simone Lipscomb, except the one of me and that was taken by my brother, Lance Lipscomb.

Where the Wild Things Are

By Simone Lipscomb | April 9, 2013

As I was photographing the musicians at Blue Moon Farm last weekend I realized that I was actually enjoying connecting with humans through photography. What? Surprised at the realization I contemplated it as I sat, transfixed by the jam happening ten feet from me.

I love music but the draw to photograph humans has never been very strong. Why was I photographing…humans? As I witnessed the outrageous creative process happening last Friday night and Sunday afternoon, understanding dawned.

Wildlife and wild places speak to me deeply, profoundly. So much so that I often ignore the beauty found in my own species…humans. My reason for avoiding photographing humans is that we are so domesticated…so disconnected from the spark of wildness that keeps us plugged in to the planet….to the cosmos and my work is really about capturing that spark of wildness, of raw, untamed beauty.

The musicians that play at The Frog Pond are masters at creating something harmonious, something beautiful out of thin air. My theory is they are still connected to that primal spark of pure, creative energy. They are still plugged into the untamed unlimited-potential cosmic soup in the creative cauldron of the Universe. They come together to tap into that source. And the result is explosively great music.

Wild animals are mostly free from domesticated parameters and boundaries. They live without thinking about living. Instinctually they exist on this beautiful planet, wild hearts free to be exactly who they were born to be. I cherish them for this.

Buddy and Lucky are residents at The Frog Pond — *Residents of The Frog Pond*

Animals that are around humans become domesticated and soon adapt our behaviors. Some wild traits may remain but for the most part, the wildness is bred out over time.

And just to be clear, I’m not suggesting we go back to caves and clubbing dinosaurs but rather simply remember our connection to the unlimited potential we are born with and not become seduced or conditioned into thinking we are less than what we are…or that we cannot fully express the gifts we were born to give the world.

The musicians that frequent The Frog Pond stage at Blue Moon Farm remind me that it is possible to tug the tails of stars that dwell in the cosmic soup and bring forth beauty simply by showing up, opening up and being willing to yank on the thread of pure creative energy that is available to all.

*Cathe Steele, owner of Blue Moon Farm and Music Mama of The Frog Pond*