On Fame

Some create music to sell records and make money. They are concerned with the precedent. Their interest is themselves, yet their souls are enslaved.

I create music cathartically. When I’m stressed and don’t know how to say what’s on my mind, I pick up the strings or caress the ivory. Creation in this way is profoundly personal, and cannot be forced nor expected. When people get their oily hands all over it, it becomes like tainted birdling’s wings whose parent won’t take it back. It is because of this that I am extremely hesitant to expose my creations to people I don’t trust. My creations are mine, and since I don’t tend to profit from them, I can share them only with those I deem worthy.

This sanctity is vital to my vision, and I will not sacrifice.
However, if people like something enough, it will become its own fame.