I’ve always been rather serious about art. It’s more about obsession than fun and it often carries the burden and the zeal of a religion. There’s this notion that all the mistakes I’ve ever made, anything I might consider foolish or shameful, is somehow made right by creating something that transcends myself – something that somehow taps into the universal and eternal. I love the way art can turn ugliness into beauty and bring order to what can seem so cruel and random. The flip side of this is a constant dissatisfaction with whatever I create and a feeling of almost frantic discomfort when I don’t feel I’ve created enough.
How much is enough? I don’t know. I’ve written and recorded over sixty songs, finished a novel, designed the websites I use to promote all of this and… that just doesn’t seem like much after having done it. What I do think a lot about is whether I’ll write another song or book and whether they’ll be any good. Or about how I haven’t worked hard enough to market what I have created. Marketing has always seemed like a dark art to me. I’d rather not have to understand it but I know how important it is. Especially now. We’re at this amazing period in human history where everyone has a voice. Never before has the ability to have your ideas reach millions of people been so democratized. The problem now, of course, is how to be heard over the chatter. And anyone looking to do that also has to ask themselves whether or not they deserve to be heard.
