spider botes / spider hacksaw / ©2013

Truth be told, when I observe my own experience with creativity, it seems to originate from some dimly lit netherworld, and it comes seeping into my skull sponge filter before it get squeezed out. ‘Tis as though these little invisible jellyfish-people are running this story spewing machine, which looks like a sewing machine, but it’s a spewing machine, and they are stitch-shooting these bullet threads into my inner cranial tubes and then these swarms of gooey ideas belch pocket-blossoms that bloom and slather the walls inside my skull and behind my face with layers of a creamy black milk mustard substance and then from this, a piece of story or a character emerges. And the story or character just tell me their own story and I listen, like a talk show host, but I’m really more of just the outlet, like some dirt or potting soil for a creative force beyond my control to grow itself out of. Something like that.

—spider hacksaw


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