Been locked in the studio for a full six days solid on this one. Do you know in that entire time, this singular, milky, bugs-eye hasn’t turned it’s withering gaze from me once. It makes me think of the old man in Tell-Tale Heart staring accusingly from the dark like a bitter moon.
In a moment of epiphany last week, I typed something out on social media about so much art being manifested in silence, with the accompanying choir of a thousand voices screaming self doubt. It’s true-the visions are barely audible at times over the constant drone of rejection, failure, hardship, exclusion or…well, name your self-flagellating poison.
It made me think I’ve probably been listening to the choir for too long.
I should have squashed the voices rather like our vexing bug here.