#61. Seven years ago Theresa and I sat in the audience and watched Jeremy discuss his art at the SF MOMA. I could have just made these new songs and put them out with some hope that they’d stand on their own, and perhaps they would. But I just felt like some details were missing, and maybe that the back story was important enough to take the extra time to set up. Again, Jeremy’s example was an inspiration: it’s okay to explain yourself a little. It doesn’t “break” the art.
So I’ve written this blog, and these songs, to do my best to humanize Theresa and Jeremy. And maybe to include myself in the story, too, because I was a part of it. Or maybe they were a part of mine.
And more importantly because someone needs to say she was not insane, or an ice queen, or paranoid. And that he was not a slave to her whims, cast under her evil siren spell. Sorry, Mr. Easton Ellis. Perhaps Mr. Noe or Mr. Van Sant will direct your fictitious made-for-TV-movie some day. But I can’t complete the equation for you, or for myself. I just have these memories.
Jeremy at the MOMA, 2005.