By Jo Gale
Jellyfish may seem like an unlikely source of inspiration amidst the land-locked desert of Provo, Utah. Yet, for Bella Pasto (stage name Anni Pasto), countless visits to local aquariums over the years (including most recently the Loveland Aquarium in Draper, UT) have made the flowy invertebrates a hyperfixation.
To her, jellyfish are simultaneously beautiful and mysterious while constantly holding the potential to be severely dangerous. Their ability to rely fully upon their senses to navigate through deep seas due to a lack of both heart and brain has sparked a desire within Pasto to be open to deep connections with others, while allowing herself to be fully independent and know the power she holds. The mysterious creatures have fueled her music over the past few years, accumulating in her recently released album Jelly-Filled Medusas.
Pasto grew up in the small town of Fernley, NV, and later moved to Mountain House, NV. By the age of 13, she had experienced some pretty traumatic childhood events. Around this same time, she discovered the guitar and music as a source of refuge.
“The discovery of creation and the fact that it was my life’s purpose was really essential for me,” Pasto said. “I really sucked at the guitar and couldn’t sing for forever, but I somehow gained enough skills to communicate the messages I wanted to through songwriting. I started ravenously writing songs and released various records throughout high school under the moniker ‘Bellefrog,’ where people can still listen if they’d like.” She also started listening to and drawing inspiration from many artists, including St. Vincent, Weezer, David Bowie, Talking Heads, Fiona Apple, and Vulfpeck.
Pasto then moved to Provo at age 18, and her aunt, Larissa Davis, introduced her to Utah’s music scene. She was surprised to find how quickly she fell in love with the city’s indie and alternative community. As well as being awe-struck by many of the artists here (including Little Moon and Lindenfield), Pasto got involved by performing around town, most often at Java Junkie.
“One night in January when I was playing, Bly Wallentine happened to be the sound tech. I remember thinking that the show was a disaster, and I felt pretty bad about it. But much to my surprise, later that night Bly reached out to me and said that she wanted to make a record with me of my songs.”
Pasto gladly accepted. The two decided to record guitar and vocals out near Utah Lake and then work on arranging everything back at Bly’s studio. Working so closely with nature allowed Pasto’s record to incorporate more than just music from instruments. “We captured so many cool nature sounds including frogs croaking in sync with my music, and crickets chirping,” Pasto explained.
They continued to work together to produce the album into “a loose, lush, gooey, magical universe,” bouncing ideas off each other. Pasto worked closely with Bly while she mixed and mastered the record. Other Provo artists also contributed to the record, including Alex Bateman (a sweet, groovy drummer who also performs in the Anni Pasto live band) and Larissa Davis (featured playing strings on the last track).
Creating her record came pretty naturally for Pasto, but it wasn’t without its own set of unique challenges. Around the start of the process, she says she was filled with a feeling of existential dread. Her constantly shifting beliefs caused her mind to crowd with questions about her existence and what happens after we die. “I think when I initially wrote a lot of these songs I felt a lot of existential dread that I needed to process, and now I feel more calm about not knowing and instead making meaning, mostly through creativity and community.”
The record is thus painted with a spectrum of colorful emotions, including both anger at the patriarchy, and love for beauty, nature, bodies, and the people she loves most. “Some of the subject matter on the record is extremely vulnerable and tender, which feels scary to release to the world, and know that so many people (including those I love) will maybe have reactions that will hurt,” Pasto explains, “but I think the fact that I’m being vulnerable and that I am scared is a sign that I’m doing what I need to with my art.”
Her flowy, authentic music really is reminiscent of jelly-filled medusas. It leaves any listener feeling just a little bit more connected to nature. As for the future, Pasto’s goals are simple: keep on fulfilling her life’s purpose of creation. “Next I want to start a punk band, make a bunch of weird films, learn how to read music, make a book of poetry, illustrate children’s novels, do art shows, learn how to sew, teach guitar and art, and really just create as much weird, soulful art as I can before I die.”
You can look for Pasto’s art around town or catch her performing sometime at the Java Junkie. Be sure to follow Anni Pasto on Instagram. You can listen to her song “Patch-work Heart” below!