Well Bottom Blues

and all the other reprobates, I think: broken people make art—and do other reprehensible, sometimes horrific malfunctional things. Artists step outside the bounds of propriety to describe it.  Some are cast out because of social deformity. They are inherently transgressive. They sit away from the communal fire. They wander long in the woods. Some transgress into the morally dubious or reprehensible.

It is the nature of our beast that some must step outside society into a shamanic space to call upon the Powers. It is there we make our art, but we are disassociated from that place in which the souls of trees and creatures speak and mere humans must walk gently to survive the mystery. We have taken the magic out of the world and replaced it with monsters.