Maximalist: Not Just an Art Form

Song Of The Week

In a world where every day feels like a rerun of a sitcom, Juniper bursts onto the scene with "Here for the First Time”. Picture this: a whimsical blend of indie pop sprinkled with a hint of existential wonder that brings you back to the past.

From the very first note, we find ourselves slipping down a rabbit hole of shimmering synths and jangly guitars, reminiscent of a sunset seen through glitter-covered glasses. The chorus dances around our heads like a mischievous firefly, encouraging everyone to throw their hands in the air and sing along — because who doesn’t want to feel like they’re reclaiming spontaneity in a world of grey and white, right?

Lyrically, Juniper weaves together themes of embracing the moment with an uncanny charm. Lines like “Let’s pretend we’ve never been here before, just you and me, igniting the unexplored” encapsulate the idea of rediscovering joy in life’s little quirks.

It’s a reminder that every moment is a fresh page to scribble your story — colorful, quirky, and undeniably yours.

4 Eyes

I like to say I have the eyes of a grandma but the sharpness of a hawk. Nothing slips by me. I’m a detail-oriented person through and through — the type who notices the flicker of a pattern, the way colors sit next to each other, and most importantly the effort tucked in between each ornamental detail. 

I know some people get really surprised, but honestly? I just think it’s paying attention with my eyes and then my brain perceives it. I’m the kind of person who notices everything.The new mailbox down the street — shinier, slightly taller, with a different little flag on the side.The coffee shop’s sign — the same name, but now the letters are a little rounder, a little softer.The way a neighbor repainted their door — switching from a faded navy to a bold, glossy red. The gold stitching hidden on the inside hem of a jacket or skirt. It’s like the world is always leaving clues — little love letters tucked into corners — and I’m just the kind of person who actually sees them. I believed it stemmed from my love of the arts.

 I’ve always loved details. The more, the better. Hell, the minor the best! Maximalism? Absolutely. Ornamental designs? Yes, please. There’s something about layering textures, colors, and tiny hidden gems that makes life feel fuller, richer, more alive. It's like constantly playing I spy in a world full of visuals. I love it! While the world pushes for the bleck “less is more,” or the grey millennials I’m over here thinking... Why?!?! 

Craftsmanship is a Lost Art

Throughout the entire human century — and really, since the beginning of civilization — the arts have always been closely tied to wealth, power, and prestige. Kings and queens, members of the royal court, the elite… they were the ones who could afford the luxury of craft. Not just the final product, but the process — the time, the tools, the materials, and the skilled hands it took to bring something beautiful into existence.

These weren’t just basic creations. If you’ve taken any history class — or even just looked closely at ancient manuscripts, palaces, or religious art — you’d know the craft went way beyond a bold outline or a simple shape. There were intricate border patterns, tiny floral motifs, delicate vines wrapping around the edges, bursts of gold leaf that shimmered when the light hit just right. Even the “background” had intention. Every detail meant something. It wasn’t just art — it was storytelling through precision. A language made from color, scale, repetition, and care.

And while the tools and mediums have changed, I still feel connected to that level of detail. That desire to make something rich, not just in how it looks, but in how it’s made. It’s why I gravitate toward maximalism. Why I fall in love with things that are ornate, layered, and unapologetically intentional. Because to me, beauty lives in the details. And honoring the details — whether in art, design, or life — feels like a kind of devotion.

It’s easy to admire the finished piece — the stained glass window, the illuminated manuscript, the embroidered robe — but what we often forget is the dedication it took to create something that magnificent. These weren’t rushed works or last-minute commissions. They were laborers of love, of obsession, of precision and patience.

Someone sat for hours — days, months, years — laying down paint one pigment at a time, or hammering gold into thread-thin sheets to place on the wings of an angel or the edge of a letter. How can you not appreciate that? The borders were drawn by hand. Straight and crisp. The symmetry is calculated without digital tools! The details weren’t just for decoration — they were a reflection of devotion, both to the work and to whoever it was being made for. How can you not have a deep love, deep passion for that? 

Craftsmen trained for decades to master their medium. They used to travel by boat to try to be an apprentice with an artist they never met. They worked in silence, in candlelight, with aching backs and blistered hands, driven by something bigger than the final result. Sometimes it was for God. Other times it’s for the crown. And some off chance it was just the quiet joy of doing something well, something that would last. 

That kind of commitment — that sacred focus — is something I think about a lot. It is so beautiful and I crave to have that type of dedication to my craft. Especially now, in a world that moves fast, rewards shortcuts, and sometimes forgets how much intention really matters. The idea of dedication is lost in cringe culture and the idea of working hard and trying has been labeled lame and uncool. Plus the push to AI in every app and every activity is excessive and honestly… a huge blow at human capability. 

Dedication

That kind of commitment — that sacred focus — is something I think about a lot. Especially now, in a world that moves fast, rewards shortcuts, and sometimes forgets how much intention really matters.

To me, being detail-oriented isn’t about being fussy or trying too hard — it’s about celebrating the little things that make something unforgettable. Who cares if it takes a long time? Who cares if it doesn’t even work the first time — or ever? The time will pass anyway. You might as well spend it doing something you love. Something that pulls your attention so deeply you forget to check the clock.

We should all strive to dedicate ourselves to something in that way. Not because it’ll go viral. Not because it’ll make us money. But because there's something deeply human about pouring yourself into your craft, whatever it is. Whether it's painting, styling an outfit, planting a garden, or writing a single beautiful sentence — there's power in giving it your all.

The final product? That’s not the real reward. The reward is being able to look back and say: I did that. I cared. I showed up. There’s nothing more satisfying than knowing your effort mattered, even if only to you.

So yes — I’m detailed. I’m extra. I’m completely and totally in love with the ornament, the texture, the small things most people scroll past. Because to me, those are the things that make life rich. This week’s song of the week is "Here for the first time" by Juniper. It’s soft, intentional, and quietly magical — kind of like the feeling of noticing something beautiful no one else saw. It feels like catching a glimmer in the corner of your eye, turning toward it, and realizing... it was meant for you.

Enjoy This Journey With Me

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Enjoy This Journey With Me ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

This isn’t the end—just a bookmark in the conversation. Stories don’t really close; they unfold, shift, and find new voices. If this one stirred something in you, let it breathe. Leave a thought, challenge an idea, or carry it forward in your own way. And if you ever feel like wandering through more unfinished thoughts, you know where to find me. Let’s keep the conversation alive. ~XOXO