Maggie got her black Ovation guitar in her sophomore year of high school. It’s well-loved. Though it’s seen a lot of gigs, it’s in immaculate condition, and is found either in her hands or the hard-shell case she stows beneath her bed. Maggie introduced herself to me three years ago as a singer-songwriter, and mentioned she’d just finished a new song. She writes best at home, in a hilly, wooded town outside Boston.
There’s a visible change in her demeanor in the hour leading up to a gig. Nerves are replaced by a steady calm as she smoothly sets up her gear and checks the mic. When I help her, my last responsibility before she starts playing is to ask the bartender to fill up her water bottle.
Maggie looks most at home on a stage; she radiates charisma under a spotlight. One of my favorite performances of hers I’ve seen was a band party at a frat last year. She was playing with her band Daylight Spending, and everyone was just dancing around having a good time.
Maggie always has a partially-used disposable camera on hand, spending the precious shots over the course of a month or more. She likes having the physical prints that come back from the one-hour development kiosk at CVS. The best part of the process is when you’ve forgotten what was on the roll, and you open the package of prints and re-experience everything.
Hidden away in a box inside a box inside a box beneath the bed is a small, dented tin full of mementos and trinkets. She remembers the story behind each one.
Now, she’s working on a new music project called Birds and the Breeze and looking to record some of her solo songs. You might see her playing around campus, or hear her on WQHS, the student radio station.