Maya Lumen Finds Magic in the Quiet Corners on “Maynard’s Song”

Some songs arrive loudly, demanding attention. Others slip in softly, curl up beside you, and stay longer than expected. “Maynard’s Song” belongs firmly in the second camp.

Before the name Maya Lumen ever entered the picture, Jaqueline F. Moore was already living a full, layered life. She ran her own Marriage and Family Therapy practice, taught at her alma mater, painted otherworldly canvases, and explored yoga, reiki, meditation, and spiritual study with the same curiosity she brought to everything else. Creativity wasn’t a hobby, it was a throughline. From wind ensemble and jazz band to photography and painting, art was always there. Still, something lingered beneath the surface, unresolved and quietly insistent.

That feeling finally found its voice during recovery from a serious hip rupture. Unable to hold her bass guitar, Lumen picked up a mahogany-bodied Martin acoustic instead. What started as a physical limitation became a spiritual opening. In that moment, the door swung wide. Maya Lumen was born, not just as a project, but as a calling.

Her sound now lives in a space she calls “progressive desperado,” a shape-shifting blend of folk, rock, Latin textures, and adventurous chord progressions. It’s music that doesn’t rush you. It invites you in. Soft, free, and unguarded, it feels like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.

“Maynard’s Song” carries that feeling in every note. Written in honor of her black cat companion, named after Tool’s Maynard James Keenan, the track traces the quiet comfort that can come from an unexpected source. In some of Lumen’s darkest stretches, Maynard was there, steady, observant, and grounding. The song mirrors his presence: a little moody, a little mysterious, and deeply comforting.

Over time, the track grew into something warm and kaleidoscopic. Delicate acoustics drift alongside buzzing basslines and understated, shuffling rhythms that feel pulled from a dusty Western horizon. There’s a cinematic quality to it, like watching shadows move at the edge of a room while the sun dips low. It doesn’t ask you to analyze or decode anything. It simply gives you space to feel.

That sense of openness extends beyond the song itself. Community plays a central role in Lumen’s world, and her debut music video is a reflection of that. Created with the help of local musicians, dancers, and visual artists, the project feels collective and intentional. The black-and-white visuals trade literal storytelling for movement and silhouette, figures swaying like living echoes of the music. No cat appears on screen, yet Maynard’s presence is everywhere.

“Maynard’s Song” feels best experienced without expectation. Headphones on, eyes closed. Or playing softly while the sun warms the garden on a slow Sunday afternoon. It bridges genres without trying to impress, drifting effortlessly between folk traditions and something more expansive and intuitive.