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Your pretense is not what restricts me…

it’s the assholes inside. – paraphasing Interpol.

Yesterday was an awesome day. Big progress… comes at a cost. Big disappointment.

Two things were happening yesterday: We closed escrow on a venue of our own, and I was laying tracks for background vocals for Doug’s project.

Buildup for this kinda shit is huge when you consider that the most excitement I get out of a day is a new flavour of mac’n’cheese.

I closed escrow alright, and I didn’t lay tracks. This is not a big deal really, I know I will lay tracks for Doug someday. I love Doug, I love his work, and after some time working on our collaboration, I think Doug and I have come to a point where we are able to intermesh our talents and come up with something we can both call “His”, “Mine”, and “Ours”. I can call him boss and mean it… and deliver what he wants, not what I think he should have.

Artists are strange creatures, both everyone’s bitch, and pied piper all at the same time. The most important thing an artist (of any genre) should have is humility. Subservients we. The muse demands total domination.

It’s hard to outshine everyone else when you must be humbler… it’s hard to rise to the top if you’re not completely devoted to your muse, she who drives you to incessant practice, she who bids you follow her wherever she goes, in your head, and outward.

Inside your head there are many monsters, of your own creation, and as an artist it is difficult to destroy any of your creations… or express them.

I’ve been hurt, and then angry, and then I waded past that and found joy, and inspiration for a number I wouldn’t have gotten otherwise, one I saw fit to tape, and not only that… get satisfaction from watching. There’s not alot of my work I’m satisfied with, let alone enjoy watching.

And joy is what the muse gives…

and taketh away…

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