We're all gonna land, we don't have rocket packs that last forever. But these things that we love, these things that give us purpose, these moments along the way are our parachutes. So I feel very fortunate to have all of these. Art and my family are pretty much my biggest parachutes.

Every time somebody ever told you that you weren't gonna amount to anything, you know, that's your time to shine, you know? You can show everybody and prove to yourself what you're doing is real and that it counts and that it makes a difference.

Sometimes it's a little overwhelming to take on other people's stories, that's just the kind of person I am, maybe I'm empathetic to a fault, I internalize a lot, so it can be a bit hard sometimes, but I understand that that's what they need, and if I can do it, then I'll do it, but if I can't, then I'll try to take a knee.

I feel like the personal me and the artistic me are separate, but connected. It's almost like a Jekyll and Hyde thing. As much as you try to keep them apart, they end up together. I'm very much aware that when I'm miserable on the creative side - if I can't make things work a certain way - it really detracts from being the father I want to be. So in order to ultimately be a good father and the man I want to be I know I need to keep my creative side in check, or at least a little bit happy. It's weird how it's intertwined that way.

It's always awkward to pretend to play. I feel like Ashlee Simpson. Oooh, zing.

Things don't happen to you, they happen for you.

The messenger is not as important as the message.