You know, if you just stand back and look at it objectively…it would be easier to digest. Let’s operate under the presumption that every artist is like me (fingers crossed).

So, I’m a maniac. I mean, I’m scared. I’m fearless. I’m overconfident. I’m competitive. I’m insecure. I’m ambitious. I’m lazy. Then I’m a supercharged machine. Then I’m a regular machine. And I’m famously sensitive about my shit – while agreeing with you internally. Or disagreeing with you. Depends. I write short fragment sentences for dramatic effect. Oh…and then I’m a regular person too. Shit!

The real deal about me comes out in my music because I look at it like an ocean that I can dive in and just be water in water. <— (I like that analogy but if you’re saying “WTF???”, I can totally get that too but I’m disappointed in you). I say I never lie in my music and that’s not a lie. I think it’s true that loving an artist is crazy and I wish I could make it easier but I can’t. Not yet. Not while I’m still chasing this invisible but tangible place that takes me to sleep at night/ in the morning and wakes me up at night/in the morning.

 

I think it’s true that loving an artist is crazy and I wish I could make it easier but I can’t. Not yet.

The range of emotions needed to create music is very, very understated. When I transitioned from the theatre stage to the microphone, it was always because I thought that music would help open me up emotionally and help me get my creative urges out. Then it became the therapy couch. And then best friend’s shoulder. Then the random stranger who I could tell some shit to but they wouldn’t really care because they don’t know me type of deal. And it also becomes a significant other. The problem is when you have a significant other.

If you’re reading this and it sounds crazy, go back and listen to “Busy” again. If you haven’t heard “Busy”, then I’m hurt but go listen to it and stop not listening to me.

To love an artist is to understand that you’ll have to ride waves that you didn’t know existed. There’ll be times that you think there are mood swings when actually they’re ideas and fears that have been there the whole time but come to life that certain day or time. A true artist is always creating and living through their work and IN MY OPINION, is in dire need of person who will be the only sure thing that exists. We’re sensitive because we’re laying out lives on the line to satisfy this crazy fire in us that says, “The world would LOVE to know how you see THIS! It’s as great as you think it is!” We can’t help it.

I’m guilty of sacrificing emotions for my art. Overpowering quality time with my ideas. Overcomplicating simple things with my women because…I don’t know. For my business life being a justification for changing in my personal life. For twisting romantic loyalty with supporting my dreams.

Wait. Now that, I think is fair but I can say I can and have overdone it. It’s hard to be with somebody like me and as much as I want someone to understand me and be there with me and not try to paint me a certain way – I have to reciprocate and understand that it’s hard to be with me when the artist side creeps in.

I’m sorry. That I’m crazy. Love me anyway, I’m trying.