Where the Children Live

A thing I've always struggled with: somewhat of a "jack-of-all-trades" syndrome, wherein I've been so interested in so many different things that I've failed to reach a level of "mastery" within any of them. It used to be worse; things have smoothed out somewhat in my post-college years, where I've managed to become effectively skilled in the field of audio this&that.

Another issue: TOO MUCH EXPOSURE versus NOT ENOUGH to your "input", your "source". If you want to be a good musician, for example, you ought to listen to every piece of music you can lay your hands on, right? I've always felt at odds with this scenario because, for me, artmaking comes very much from a deep-inside, primeval place, a place where the children live. There is a raw kind of naiveté that comes from there, and as an artist I live on the razors edge, with a child-like innocence on one side and a world-weary clusterfuck of overexposure on the other. I always wanted to stay unspoiled. An old mentor named Stuart once told me that too much education will effectively destroy the soul of a poet. It's a dilemma, though, an issue I'm still working out.

I'm so interested in film these days. Yet there are so many classic films I've never seen; I'm "film-stupid" in many ways. Hard to tell if it's a good thing... always left wondering how much is inspired DIY genius and how much is just a cop-out...