Entering Eli Schwartz’s home on a quiet street in Jamaica Plain, you don’t know where to fix your eyes. Maybe on the giant wooden statue of an African man with his head cast downward. Or the record player lined with albums by David Bowie and George Jones. Kindly step over the two guitars in the living room, one on the floor, the other propped up.
Then there’s the man himself. In a purple shirt, the 24-year-old Schwartz greets a reporter recently with a nest of brown curls nearly grazing his eyes and a beard just as full. Perched on his shoulder is a parrot he regularly leans in to kiss on its head.