Since the New Times is moving this column to coincide with the print edition, I thought I'd take a moment to re-introduce myself and give you a peek into why I've resided in Arizona for the past 17 years. It has a little to do with the glowing gray area between synchronicity and fate. By this I mean something that goes beyond a mere coincidence. I used to believe that if I followed these events, these aligned moments, there would be a pot of gold at the end, or some sort of inner circle reward. But I've come to understand that these glowing little gray-area moments are themselves the reward. It's the Universe giving you a tickle. An acknowledgment that you are in fact wide awake. Paying attention.
See also: Maynard is Moving To Wednesday
See also: What is Puscifer?
See also: Maynard James Keenan: Rochambeau Myself
See also: Maynard James Keenan: These Are The "End of Days"
See also: Maynard James Keenan: Up on the Sun's New Columnist
See also: Maynard James Keenan (Puscifer, Tool, A Perfect Circle) on The Importance of Keeping It Local
I was born an only child on the distant and awkward planet known as Akron/Canton, Ohio. (Also germinated/hatched here are the infamous fellow time and space travelers known to you as Devo, Chrissy Hynde, Brian Warner a.k.a. Marilyn Manson, Dan Auerbach, Dave Grohl, Glen Buxton -- the list goes on and on.)
Only those of you who were an only child can truly understand this. For us, in any given conversation, there are at least two simultaneous conversations occurring. There's audible conversation, and then there's the conversation or conversations going on inside your head. As a young child with no siblings, I created imaginary friends and entire worlds where they lived and I visited. They were my inner voice and dialogue.
I lived in a small rural house from kindergarten to eighth grade. But for some reason, our local education system kept shuffling students from school to school. So although I lived in that same house for 10 years, I went to five different schools. The glass-half-empty view of this is one of isolation. Every time I showed up to a new school, I had to find a way to fit in with a group of strangers that had been going to school together their whole lives. The glass-half-full version of this is independence. I wasn't subjected to the hierarchy that had been established among these lifelong peers. I wasn't pigeonholed into some established social order. And being an only child, I brought my friends with me. All of whom resided in my head. And any tough decisions I had to make were made by MY set of peers, all with the same or similar agenda, as opposed to advice provided by the rotating local peer group, each with their own set of baggage or irrelevant perspectives based on completely different experiences. This helped me develop my instincts and intuition - and over time, taught me to trust them. No outside noise can penetrate a solid sense of self-trust.
Skipping through all the stuff that will someday appear in my biography, we arrive at my journey toward Arizona.