While Visiting Places In The

I Have A Real Worker-bee Mentality. Just Show Up, Just Do It. Even If You Feel Like S--t And You Think You're Terrible And You'll Never Get Better And It Will Never Go Anywhere, Just Show Up And Do It. And, Eventually, Something Happens.

Sometimes The Fragment Of A Conversation, The Color Of The Sky, The Image In A Dream, Has Everything To Do With Where The Song Begins.

Sarah Palin Is A Great Example Of Someone That Just Stirs The Pot For The Sake Of The Attention. No Vision, No Critical Thinking, No Backup To Her Statements. Just To Incite Little Riots Everywhere And Capitalize Upon It Financially. To Me, She Is A Microcosm Of The Ultimate Cynicism In American Politics.

I Dream Of Songs. I Dream They Fall Down Through The Centuries, From My Distant Ancestors, And Come To Me. I Dream Of Lullabies And Sea Shanties And Keening Cries And Rhythms And Stories And Backbeats.

When I Was Eleven I Stopped Dreaming The Dreams That Didn't Come True, I Stopped Talking To People Who Didn't Listen, I Lost Hope And I Retreated. I Assumed That The Root Of The Problem Was That I Was Too Strange For The Real World. That Being The Case, I Created A Charming And Dynamic Personality To Make The Necessary Forays Into The Outside, And I Kept My Strangeness For Myself; My Own Peculiar Jewels Under Lock And Key.