Cleo Sol: A Mother’s Garden
Even outside of the pains of childbearing, moms carry children in ways that always bring me back to the security of a woman’s embrace.
The love of a mother can’t be echoed or remade. We sometimes believe that femininity has held maternal love captive. But it’s still beautiful. In fear, men stay far away from it, denying themselves the capacity to reflect this very unique strain of love. A love that, now, only a mother can extend.
A father’s love can be simulated because fatherhood has been structured by external agencies, not from a natural or inbred inclination to love. A mother’s love is not just a woman’s expression of adoration and intimacy but is an experience that embodies the human tendency to nurture the life of anything we meet.
“Mothers can be taught a lot of things. But you never have to teach them how to love their children.”
This is about music though, not patriarchy; an album, not socio-political theorizing.
Cleo Sol’s second studio album, “Mother,” was released in August of 2021 and is a gentle, inviting composition. A follow-up to 2020’s “Rose in The Dark” and one that was delivered uniquely, along with another delivery leading up to its release. That of a child.
The album cover is her in pajamas and house shoes comfortably slouched on a homely couch. In a room illuminated by sunlight— with a baby resting in her arms.
The step into motherhood, as she paints it in her music, is like water for a growing flower. It’s just one of many different elements of womanhood to blossom into; but one that she has embraced, gracefully.
”Sunshine. You make me feel alive. Little more. Little more. Just a little more.
This album sounds like a compiling of intimate journal entries; or a conversation between a mother and her unborn child while it still rests in the safety of her womb. A safety that, within months to come, that child would have to part ways with because the hands of the world will always present themselves as harmful.
Over soft, delicate keys, and quiet jazz instrumentals, Cleo Sol isolates motherhood and reflects the vulnerability and tenderness one welcomes while transitioning into maternal parenthood. She indirectly paints a mother’s love as one that embodies both sides of parenthood— that of a dad and a mom.
Mothers don’t leave. And if they do, there’s nothing that can fill the void of their love.
Her voice, in its elegant intonation and untroubled delivery, sounds like a safe haven, making the album resemble a 1-hour lullaby. Tracks are laced with motherly wisdom and vision. The lyrics aren’t insistent or words delivered without care— they’re instead, emotional vows and oaths. Spiritual and heavenly promises that nurture and protect. She reflects how a mother’s love handles with tenderness and care.
I was met with a unique peace when sitting with this project. Protection almost. Peace I believe I can always return to, just like a mother’s love. A sonic journal for her baby girl to open years down the road and hear a mother’s delicate elegies. That is what this album is amongst other things.
Cleo shows that babies, even before they’re able to put together unfinished words and sentences, teach us lessons on what it means to love. To love something that isn’t yet emotionally capable of returning the same love. Trusting that watering babies with the right love will produce a field bringing forth the fruits of love’s labor.
“Thank you for being amazing. Teaching me to hold on.”
Our children will undoubtedly see the darkness when we’re not around, our voices can at least be a white stick or flashlight to guide them through. Her child will take on her mother’s wisdom. In the same way, we wish to inherit a father’s riches and oversized hand-me-downs.
Cleo Sol gave mothers around the world a sound, echoed the voice of many, and recited poems of a love that cannot be remade. This album can serve as the ambient noise for a baby resting in a mother’s womb— and reminds us of the celestial nature of their arrival.
To all the mommies, to my mother, and the women who gracefully stepped into motherhood, whether through giving birth or other courageous means, Happy Mother’s Day.
