He would encourage me to move about the studio. Would not give me a pose. Drew without looking at the paper. Drew on the floor. Follow the lines, he would say, watch the surroundings. A thin arm makes a face sadder. Describing shadows he grew small, rascally.
“There are songs I have made where I remember realizing I had gotten my entire hand around an idea and really fully conveyed it into the temporal world with the same clarity that it had in my head. Then there are songs which resonate with me on a personal level, in a way that is purely emotional, because they are so fucking true. Not necessarily true in the sense that everything they say is a fact – although that is very often the case – but in that they capture some essential truth about life, about love and love, about being a human being.”
billy woods | The History of History