1. COVER BY METHODS OF FLIGHT

2. Ceci nest pas un album booklet (This is not an album booklet) C A N D A C E L E E C A M A C H O K E N - I - P R O D U C E A L B E R T O V A R G A S A D A M B E A L G H R Y Z L Y A T O M S 3. PHOTOGRAPH BY ALBERTO VARGAS 4. Foreword BY ADAM BEALAs someone whos easily inspired, Im fascinated by the stories that are strong enough to shape our view of the world. Im also fascinated by the moment inspiration becomes strong enough to create one of those stories. Everyone has felt the effects of inspiration. We love the feeling of its onset the goosebumps, the daydreaming. We love it so much we go out of our way to seek it. Its why we watch movies and read books. Its also why we go to museums and hold up artists and actors in such high regards. They have the ability to reshape our kingdom of possible. So what separates them from the rest of us? Artists are the few who have figured out a way to turn inspiration into something useful. They are easily affected and often full of ideas. Their over-saturation shapes how they live and how they look at the world and they swell with stories that they wish to share stories that they hope will impregnate their readers and viewers with the same energy that compelled them to create. There are very few people as saturated as Candace Lee Camacho. So much so that those close to her know that inspiration tends to weigh her down until she finds a way to get it out, usually in song. Over the past few months I saw her swell like I've never seen before. She visited the Magritte exhibit at MOMA and since then I've sat with her in lonely piano rooms late at night, watching the songs that were stuck in her big, bright eyes since the day of the exhibit come to life. She says that each Magritte painting spoke to her in a different way and she recognized the voices as those of her friends. I think like all good art, the paintings showed her something about herself. They were her mirror. And in creating this series around those close to her, she becomes theirs. 4 5. ThisS IsY Not AAn EAlbum O LYRIC B CAND CE L E CAMACH PAINTINGS BY REN MAGRITTE T R A C KL I S TThe False Mirror (Le Perreux-sur-Marne, 1928) The Eternally Obvious (LEvidence Eternelle, 1930) Love Disarmed (LAmour Desarme, 1935) The Lovers (Les Amants, 1928) Attempting The Impossible (La Tentative de LImpossible, 1928) The Rape (Le Viol, 1935) The Titanic Days (Les Jours Gigantesques, 1928) Song Of The Storm (Le Chant de LOrage, 1937) The Healer (Le Therapute, 1941) The Intermission (Entracte, 1927) 6. The False Mirror(Le Perreux-sur-Marne, 1928)More than once, I had the clouds in the palm of my hand. From the womb, to the tomb my tears they understand. Now I gotta fly home, just to take a lick of what I love the most. Now I gotta fly home, just to breathe into a soul, I want to call my own. All at once, there is a plane crash in my throat, and the sky comes down with me. I'm alone, the city that never sleeps, has got me wide awake tripping. Now I gotta fly home, just to take a lick, of what I love most. Now I gotta fly home, just to ask the sky if, she knows she's alone. 7. The Eternally Obvious (LEvidence Eternelle, 1930)Your baby hairs rose in the sunlight, caught my fingertips by surprise, every single time I got to scratch your back. You know me so well but it's my first time, dreaming all day to just unwind, and come undone inside your palms. I hear you calling out to me my darling, your touch is so loud but my bodys silent, as you chop me up and paralyze my thighs, all my limbs on your mind. Take your time, were really quiet, your touch is so loud but your lips are so honest, chop me up and read into my mind. Your baby hairs rose in the sunlight, caught my fingertips by surprise, every single time the ceiling smiled back at me. I know you so well but its our first time, dreaming all day just to unwind, and come undone inside your palms. I hear you calling out to me my darling, your touch is so loud but my bodys silent, as you chop me up and paralyze my thighs, all my limbs on your mind. Take your time, were really quiet, your touch is so loud, your lips are so honest, chop me up and read into my mind. 8. Love Disarmed(LAmour Desarme, 1935) Wake up, but dont move. Your eyes are a sonnet, Im onto you. Softly, your lips are stirring, I feel the light leave, the dark controls you. And I am here, fighting you away from your nightmares. And I am here still loving the shadows, that you left behind in my bed sheets, when the sun arrived, and you swept back through my door. Wake up, but dont move. Your eyes are a sonnet, Im onto you. Softly, your lips are stirring, I feel the light leave, the dark controls you. And I am here, fighting you away from your nightmares. And I am here still loving the shadows, that you left behind in my bed sheets, when the sun arrived, and you swept back through my door. Wake up, but please dont move. I swear if you let me, Ill love every inch of you. Softly, your lips debate me, I feel you leaving, the dark controls you. But Im holding on, holding on, holding on. Your eyes are a sonnet, Im onto you. 9. The Lovers(Les Amants, 1928) It dawned on me, in the darkness of your company, these sheets keep me awake, your skin supreme hidden from anyone elses face. And I cant see you either, but I feel so eager to know you. And I cant hide my face, if youre the only one, Ill show myself to. Youre standing there, completely wound up in my curly hair. No one would ever guess this to be true. And I cant believe Im kissing you, lying to the moon. And I cant see you either, but I feel so eager to know you. Its like were in the dark, and youre the only one, Ill show myself to. Were not hiding from anyone, Youre just the only one Ill show myself to. 10. Attempting The Impossible (La Tentative de LImpossible, 1928)How tender you are, when the lights are off. Youre like a quiet California wave. The city is frost,for once I am lost. I feel like Im in someone elses place. How surreal, does it feel, this Sunday in the dark? In the dark? Your lips, on my hips, shifting the tectonic plates underneath my skin. How lovely you are, when we sin and toss. Youre like a grumpy old tidal wave. My body is frost, for once you are lost. You keep losing your place. How forreal is the feel, this Sunday in the dark? In the dark? Your hips, in my ribs, thought it was impossible for you, to paint me like this. 11. The Rape(Le Viol, 1935)The room tastes blue, Im looking at your soul in the nude. You're beside me, my whole torso becomes unseamed. Have I been dreaming of you? No, I've been waiting on you, and finally my body feels complete. Well take take a take a I've been waitinga good look at me now, good look at me now, good look at me now, on you to welcome me back home.Your room tastes blue, Im looking at our hips so in tune. You're beside me, and nothing feels like it seems. Have I been dreaming of you? No, I've been waiting on you, and finally our minds are in sync. Well take a good look at take a good look at me take a good look at me I've been waiting on you to playme now, now, now, with my bones. 12. The Titanic Days(Les Jours Gigantesques, 1928) BY GHRYZLY ATOMS 13. Song Of The Storm (Le Chant de LOrage, 1937)It started in May, the first time it rained. Your cheekbones came sloshing down, like Gods tears on my pane, or mine on this page, havent seen you since that day. Your cheekbones came sloshing down, and out of your face. And you cant see me standing out here enduring the storm, it must have hurt you, to walk out on me too, I cant feel anymore. And you cant see me standing out here drenched as it pours, Do you even think about me anymore? It went on to June. July, August too. My cheekbones were on the floor, and under your shoes. I guess this is the blues, what your spine put me through, instead of squirming away, we could have helped each other stay. And you cant see me standing out here enduring the storm, must have hurt you, to walk out on me too, I cant feel anymore. And you cant see me standing out here, drowning as it pours, Do you even think about me anymore? 14. The Healer(Le Therapute, 1941)BY KEN-I-PRODUCEThere is nothing inside me, but peace. Please let me sit here and spend time with my peace. Ive been carrying this weight for so long, please leave me with my peace. 15. The Intermission (Entracte, 1927)I feel Octobers cold, but I cant feel my limbs, When Im all alone, I feel it sink in: What am I worth? Who can I be? With all of this disease, harboring inside of me? I know deaths dance so well, its like I taught it its steps myself, I wont stand in her way, if she came to dance with me today. Please wont you touch me? One little stroke of death, would ease my mind, would ease my mind. I dont deserve breath, if I cant feel the body beneath me, and when Im all alone, I feel my arms, suddenly. But its just a joke, everything always is, like the spring day that got me here, to begin with. I know deaths dance so well, its like I taught it its steps myself, I wont stand in her way, if she came to dance with me today. Please death wont you touch me? Im ready to call it quits, Im ready to call it quits. 16. Thank YouThank you all for listening to this project, and taking the time to view these paintings. Whether you made it to the MoMA or not, I am glad you are a part of this project. - - I must first thank Ren Magritte, I was so enthralled by him when I first saw this exhibit in October. I thank him and his surrealist friends for starting a movement that resonates with me. He lived and created almost a hundred years ago, and somehow we know each other so well. My parents are the absolute best, along with my little sisters, they support everything I do and I would be nothing without them. Thank you guys. I worked on this project with four amazing and genius human beings -- Adam Beal, Alberto Vargas, Ghryzly Atoms and Kenneth Pineda. From nights by the piano to mornings brainstorming over tea, my starting four have seen me at my best, my worst and my most delusional. These dudes keep me together, grounded and safe. I love them so very much, and I thank them for sprinkling their talents onto this project. This collaboration was a supreme dream come true. Two amazing musicians supported me on this project: Sobina Chi graciously recorded the piano tracks one December midnight and Spencer Kenney recorded the guitar parts all the way from Austin, Texas. You both sound amazing and I am so glad to have worked so closely with such seasoned musicians. Initially, these songs were sent in a private group chat to about 20 people, who commented on the songs and how they related to the paintings. Joaquin, Pippa, Eric, Wayne, 21 Quest, Niambi, Eleagle, David, Sara, Quiet Luke, Zuri, Liberty, Rich, Henry, Karima, Tamar, DGoD, Rose, Saba and Cole, you made this journey really special, thank you for being in this experiment. Thank you to Methods of Flight for the gorgeous cover art!! Thank you to my 85th family, your constant support and love keeps me going. I am growing in every aspect and its because of you guys. Thank you to my friends at The City Dont Sleep and at ReMu -- I am so blessed to be surrounded by impeccable emerging artists every day. ALL MY LOVE, Happy New Year, 8ight 5ive be the tribe, and shouts out to culture! Candace Lee Camacho