The tools to create are cheaper and more accessible than ever. The means of getting your work out there are cheaper and more accessible than ever. This is obviously a good thing, but does it also mean we're destined to drown in the 'ocean' of art and content as creators?

Is it a happy ending if your work gains critical acclaim after you die? Is framing fame as "success" terrible for your mental health as an artist while you're alive? Is Nick Drake good, or do people like him just because he's dead? Some questions I try to answer on this podcast. Enjoy

Dogs stands at the edge of the salt flats

At the edge of no tomorrows

I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out how my brain works, what productivity tricks work for me. And it's been super effective. But how much damage to our well being are these tricks to be more productive doing to us? I have a yarn about that.

Clag, paper, cuttings and anything else. Breaking down the core concepts of collage, makes it sound like every other art form is basically a variation of it. Taking ideas, symbols, what have you and sticking them together. And is that what A.I is doing? What's the difference between what we do and A.I?

Been musing on the thought of growth as an artist. It can be hard to measure how you're progressing in your practice. But perhaps even harder, and more importantly, how you're growing as a person.

It CAN be potentially foolhardy, but one approach I like to getting into things is saying 'Yep, I can do that", then panic later. However, it could get you into trouble when not being able to deliver on a project.

A sense of community around gradual property damage.

I talk a lot on here at moving at your own pace. But then I also counter that myself with how fast I move, there is something to be said about keeping your creative momentum up.

Naturally, it's hard to see the progress you're making until you step back. I think this goes for your confidence and mental health as well. I chat about that for a while coming off my first stand up comedy set.

New EP: Plaster & Salt

Some lush, moody, self-reflective tracks. Bit of a journal entry of where I'm at.

Streaming everywhere!

Today I go on a rant about venues as a musician, but really, I'm angry at the finger pointing from everyone involved. Hospitality and the music industry suck, how can we make it better?

No final goals, no plans. Just excited to keep making shit until the day I die. That's the mentality I'm trying to cultivate for myself and it was reinforced by seeing Rickie Lee Jones last night.

There is no right way to make or market your art, especially now. There are tricks, I don't know them, but I've heard they're out there. But I find the lack of a rigid pathway exciting.

Far back in history, we built great machines. Boulevards, towers, and factories to pull humanity from the dirt and lift it to the stars. Gradually at first, but then faster and faster, accelerating to the point of whiplash. The body broke while progress continued onward. Always better, always further.

And this is the world you stand in now. A world built for you.

But one you do not belong in.

I like to work quickly, and efficiently. Not to necessarily squeeze every second out of every day, but rather because my brain gets so easily frustrated fighting with the tools. So I try to shorten the path between A and B from project creation to completion.

In this episode, I fight with a new mic. It pissed me off. Enjoy.

It's a funny thing, battling the need to create while also being terrified of being judged for it. Cringe is a particular fear of mine, one that I think debilitates me considerably.

Is it insane to tie our lives so closely to our devices? These tools are like nothing that has come before in human history, so perhaps it makes a lot of sense....

So I went to see some Mexican wrestling, and it was a fascinating time. Got me thinking about allowing yourself wholeheartedly to commit to a performance and art in general.

Did some reading, running with the theme of the plague from Pathologic. 'The Plague' by Albert Camus. And it got me thinking of the repetition in humanity's response to terrible events.

I drink wine while talking about it. It's loose.