I don't have a normal life, in fact, I don't even know if you could call it a "life" at all. More of a chaotic waking dream where I barely know if I'm asleep or not. My whole life I've fed my deep need for escapism with music… And art, books, shows, movies, cartoons, comics, and so on… Even art and other media I made and love. So my imagination inspired my dreams, and my dreams, in turn, inspired my own art… …and writing, crafts, painting, illustrating, and yes, performances… Hello. So let's start with, my Mom was a witch. Like a real life fairy tale witch. Only, more evil, less magic, and a lot more powerful in the eyes of a sheltered kid. Sheltered, yes, but exposed? Yes also. I grew up in a liminal space made of secrets juxtaposed lies. That's just a fancy way of saying bloated truth floating in Mom's murky schemes. Dad stayed on the road as much as possible. Because, with Mom being a witch made it hard for him to be there. You know how it is. He took hard construction jobs, sent home his pay, and she would just keep demanding more. But when he was at home, then he was a preacher. I was born at home, home schooled, home churched by the witch and preacher. Small farm, single wide trailer, no internet, you know the set up. Every day Mom played TV or radio programs with an angry, narrow point of view. It was all day, every day, constantly. Sensory overload, so I escaped to the outdoors. For me it was mostly into the woods to play or burry my mind in science books. Always making art, always learning, this was my favorite place when I was awake. But the best place was in my sleep, my Dream world! It just happened one day! It was maybe nineteen ninety one, and that's when the dream happened. I couldn't sleep, clenching my eyes closed, holding my breath, I don't know why. I must have been red in the face, seeing how long I could hold my breath I held it for too long. I opened my eyes to an emptiness, full of everything's potential and nothing's form. A void devoid of emptiness, a vacuum with nothing vacuous about it. It all rushed through me. Like a swirling rush of nebulous colors moving at the speed of light, cosmic, gaseous matter. I pulled it all in, pushed it back out and poof! I was in a pure, peaceful, practically perfect, personal, fine and private place: Pixieland! From then on, I would think about music to lull myself to sleep so I could dream there. It wasn't till a few years later, nineteen ninety three, that I... well, that's another story… Maa ikka… I sang to myself at nite, a little du-i-tu-du type thing, and eventually drift off to the Dreamm- My universe, my dream, my psyche, Pixieland Yumé-baasu. I dream of a place, an impossible space, And for my art it's fuel. The inhabitants all natural and peaceful, a friend can be found anywhere. From oni to sprites, things that move through the nites, it was a safe space with no monsters there. du-i-tu-du ta la la la, mmm hmm mmm. du-i-tu-du-i-tu-du-i-tu-du, tra ra la la la, Hmmmmm Du du do it too tu oo oh… Hmm mm, Du du du di, du, Oh, oh, oh. Mmm, mm-mm…, Hmmhmm
