even damnation is poisoned with rainbows.
I was 15 when I first became deeply touched by the rhythm and structure of words.
When you stop thinking about yourself all the time, a certain sense of repose overtakes you.
It doesn't matter how anything happens.
Most of the time one is discouraged by the work, but now and again by some grace something stands out and invites you to work on it, to elaborate it or animate it in some way. It's a mysterious process.
We're in a world where there's famine and hunger and people are dodging bullets and having their nails pulled out in dungeons so it's very hard for me to place any high value on the work that I do to write a song. Yeah, I work hard but compared to what?