i'm experiencing some of the benefits of being my own client in my w.f.a. class at school.
i've been getting outside of my music,
and subsequently, outside of myself,
looking in, trying to figure out what the hell is going on,
what i'm actually doing,
why i'm actually doing it.

when every kid is little,
they are presented with the question:
what do you want to be when you grow up?
i've always loved thinking about this question and the idea behind it because i think i had such an excellent response;
i wanted to be a garbageman and own my own junkyard.
i drew a picture and everything.
why be a garbageman?
so i could use all of the trash to make sweet things, of course,
and so i could ride on the back of the truck because that just looks fun.
this was my untarnished 5 year old reasoning,
and i absolutely love it.

why do i bring this up?
because at some point while looking back at myself and my music,
i remembered this and it all just made sense.
i love bringing out the beauty in the "ugliest" of things.
it ties in perfectly with my attraction to manic behavior and distorted art.
it helps me to explain why i love writing the poppiest songs with the ugliest chords,
and why i love to yell over happy music.

in essence,
i guess i've become the garbageman of my childhood aspirations,
minus the sweet truck and the implied smell.
i take nasty chords and make music out of them.
i use colloquial terminology to describe complex ideas.
my friends are all conflicted, and i love them that way.

i was, am, and always will be the garbageman.
i like that...