Every time I set foot in my studio, intentions blazing, I crumble with pathetic and flaccid paralysis. Do it, paint. No. Fuck. Why not? I can’t get my brain right in that space anymore, and I thought my whole life was going to be devoted to my art. I don’t know how to reconnect or reconcile making art in a world made of war and cruelty, how would painting a fucking picture ever help. How do you create in this environment?
DAN @ Issue no. 274I was lucky enough to be at your recent London show and you played Cosmic Dancer by T Rex. It reminded me how Morrissey also covered and released this. In turn it reminded me of my current struggle reconciling his recent unsavoury far right support to how I used to put him on a pedestal. Generally, is it possible to separate the latter-day artist from his earlier art? More specifically, what are your views on Morrissey, both early days and his newer more ugly persona?
MARK @ Issue no. 48Nick, I’m writing songs again. They’re fucking pouring out of me. It’s been 8 years since I wrote songs. But here’s the thing. I’m struggling to write about the passing of my son, Mac. I want to, bless him. But something feels off when I turn my mind to the idea… Maybe it’s pressure for it to be perfect or to protect him. Maybe I’m not really ready yet… It’s so tender, as you know. But I want to try. How do you approach these moments?
NATHAN @ Issue no. 356