"Why pluck one string? What good is just one note? Well, one string sounds fine, I guess; but we were once one-notes--we were lonely wheat, quietly ground into grain (what light and momentary pain)! So why this safe distance? This curious look? Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book?
Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar?"
Always puzzling over something or whatever, I'm busy behaving as I please and making music with a few folks far more talented than the last decade or so of practice has made me. I feel most alive during the process of creation. I constantly seek new ideas and perspectives, and typically i can be found tucked in a corner, furiously scrawling in my notebook or ambling about taking pictures--most recently I've grown fond of terrible advertisement (especially the ads plastered all over Marta's trains).
I perform experiments all day long. By that I mean I've got the scientific method by my brain's balls, and surprisingly that hasn't killed me yet. That lobotomy was the best body-mod I never did get, did I? I ask friends before performing experiments on their minds, usually.
Skype: countbarnold
