I was faced with a choice: to deny my addiction and embrace that 'comfortably numb' but 'magicless' existence, or accept the burden of insight, take the road less travelled, and embark on the often painful journey to discover who I was and where I fit.

You take the risk of being rejected.

You run and you run to catch up to the sun but it's sinking, racing around to come up behind you again.

Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way.

...why is an artist an artist? Artists simply do feel and see things in a different way to other people. In a way it's a blessing, but it can also be a terrible curse. There's a great deal of satisfaction to be earned from it but often it's also a terrible burden.

Money, so they say, is the root of all evil today. But if you ask for a rise it's no surprise that they're giving none away.

When you've done something, certainly if you create a piece of music, you then hear it with fresh ears when you play it for somebody else.