F  L  A  U  N  T

Grammy weekend saw a homecoming of sorts as Flaunt alum, [**Matthew Shultz**](https://www.instagram.com/mynameisbabyblue/) of [**Cage The Elephant**](https://www.cagetheelephant.com/home/), and emerging artist platform, [**Quantum Arts**](https://www.quantumarts.com), presented the launch of "Salon Series" at French bistro and Hollywood stalwart, [**La Poubelle**](http://www.lapoubellebistro.com/). "Salon Series" references turn of the century Parisian salons that featured thinkers, creators, and doers coming together to question, create, and grow ideas.  Shultz presented artworks inspired by recent touring and read a new poem, featured below. Ultimately a prelude to Cage the Elephant's win for Best Rock Album the following eve, the celebration was filled with love and inquiry, aided by boutique Peruvian pisco sours from [**Caravedo**](https://caravedopisco.com/) and the sounds of the legendary [**Wade Crescent**](https://www.instagram.com/wadecrescent/?hl=en) on the ones and twos. * * * PISTOL WHIPPED THAT CHRISTMAS FACE, YET FOUND MY NAME INSIDE THE SNOW ===================================================================== From which you sang and seemed to praise I became those yellow walls I was the one who pistol whipped my Christmas face To assume and groom the horse that raced Who took first place? Who took my place While the foal screamed and neighed out-loud Smiling on the inside Nay sayer echoed out the catacombs, Of the starting Gate Bit in place, gaged the plea inside a page And again, Yes. I screamed nay, I have screamed in, and outside the page, The race But I have seen the fine print of victory’s defeat And now not by default or deceit But by Love in action to intervene The One who took first place Took my place Replaced my Christmas face Took daddy’s place too The spring of life, flowing true So who am I? Who am I to try and pistol whip that fine china slinging babe bought with a price, By the One who took 1st place A price I can’t afford to pay Climb to the top of my days Bury the merry bones Daddy was a cowboy, shooting from the hip? What happens when that gun slinging singing cowboy, that steer driver cry’s out, “I am dead?” “A dead man walking?” In a deep freeze still freed by fleece, the dead man grows and glows I judged those yellow painted walls And yes, Even true fine china can’t replace the time A time, that time, those days, a time and place The baby howls, on and on Calling on the Name, While calling out the names? Carrying on, carried on Preyed and prayed upon By birds of prayer, and birds of prey Perched, up in New York City Lost but found, bird of the ground Finely dined, man about the town Home Alone made us laugh Time to pass with flooded mind? The war that laid ahead behind And yes there where streets They glittered in those darkened days And yes I saw the haze, * * * “The pieces on display are meant to represent a stream of consciousness or inner dialog during a time of crisis within a human being between self and the entity of Love. The question between two sides of each piece is, “which is the closer pretrial to an individuals actual state of being? And that, in reference to a broader state of being mutually witness and experienced. What effect does our perspective and observation, in action have, on our and others state of being?” —Matthew Shultz * * * Photographed by:  [Megan Cullen](https://www.instagram.com/megancullenphoto/)