Much of what we are, can never be expressed merely using words. We are deeper than language, unless that language rides a rhythm. The sundry rhythms of life. You know. I know. We all know. We all have a heart, have feelings.

Remember how you reacted, how you expressed your joy. How you heart flipped and skipped when someone was your heart and you theirs. And you wordlessly embraced. You know how the old folks say–how great it is when two becomes one.

Mayra is of the tribe of Black survival that comes in all colors. Whatever color humans come in, we have been that color. Mashed up into a dense Blackness that contains all. African creolo. West African. Way west. Litte islands jutting out into the water. Once you get thousands of miles away, where there is nothing to see but sea. The Atlantic Ocean.

Mayra is a woman of both shores. Born in Cuba. On one side. On the other, her people, her heritage is Cape Verdean. Thanks to her diplomat parentage she has had the opportunity to live all over the world. And now as a grown woman she embraces all that she has been. Check it:

She makes music with a piece of metal. She scrapes out beats.

She flips electronic switches. Modulates her voice. Awash in electronics.

All is her. And then she makes herself a home in Ghana–that’s in West Africa–she is not only comfortable in the midst of Covid, but sings with only a guitarist collaborating in her music making.

Who knows what the world future will bring. None of us do. But worldwide I know we all know music. Despite whatever troubles trouble us, we can harmonize in the midst of misfortune. This Covid-shit is merely a modern-day middle passage. We know we can survive this. We did it before.

Mayra Andrade is aware, fully woke. When she sings making beauty is what her sound is about. Us. Surviving. Always. Any means necessary. Pushing past bullshit. Struggling. And loving. Being our bad and beautiful selves. Yes.

Sometimes we don’t know how to get pass the fuckery that has been dropped on us. Sometimes we hurt each other in misguided attempts to achieve happiness. But then, it is precisely when we are locked down that our spirits rise up.

No misery lasts forever. Even if our future does not include all of us, is only composed of some us, we will survive, we will get pass this. We will be happy on the other side, even if it’s only for a moment. We will live. We will sing. We will love. Our history tells us so.