No one ever changed the world working from the center of a crowd. Artists need room to move and fresh air to breathe in order to produce their finest work.
You can’t produce vigorous, creative thought in the suffocating confines of other people’s walls, those walls set up long before you even thought to pick up a pen or guitar or brush.
Humans need paintings to hang on hotel walls and songs about bubble gum and books about vampires-it’s all valuable in its own way and necessary-but new ideas, dangerously original ideas, come from the outside.
Originality comes from frightening places, distant Elsewheres among the ether.
Your finest, most honest works live in that scary Undiscovered Terrain our deeper selves wish for but to our conscious selves, remain resisted and strange.
Some place along the fringes, along those Outer Edges of the ether is where we have to walk alone and find original thought curled up alone and sleeping.
Work with your one singular mind, separate and far from the safety of the hive. Risk walking the Outer Edges, risk falling. Create.