The creation of 13 Tracks was a real life “Shining” event, except there was plenty of booze and the ghost were a little more friendly. Stephen King would have been proud, I assume.
All of the sudden it dawned on me, as I stood in the haze of a hallucination effortlessly induced by the triple digit heat of an endless southern summer, watching beats and baselines dancing in the sunshine. Although its insidious grip posed no malice, the shock was absolute as reality melted away to reveal a life-breathtaking view of a winter in despair. I retraced an icy path that had extended into the distance, all the way back, until it terminated beneath my feet. To wander on was certain death. And although I know death is certain, this was not the time, the place, or the circumstance to welcome it- of that I was certain. However the message was clear, or at the very least I was clear on my interpretation of the apparition. The time to revel in inspiration and wonder had passed. As inspiration void of creation to render structure will melt away, and once again return to forever.
At once I made my decision, then I packed up and headed to a place where I could set up a studio free of distractions. A place where once the first snow of the season hit, I knew I would be locked in with no escape. Forced to face reality for what we were, a hologram of infinite possibilities poised on the event horizon- waiting for a watchful eye to define its meaning. I abandoned the warmth of the south and headed north for the arctic tundra just below Canada.
Winter welcomed the beleaguered warrior with a cold embrace and a three day blizzard, its version of a tinker tape parade. As promised isolation was complete, surrounded by 10-foot snowdrifts and phantom turrets blasting rounds of negative 40 degree shells at anything foolish enough to be caught outside. It was perfect, an ominous oasis of solitude. A place where the insanity of pure creation could run rampant until it had exhausted itself. But only after it had completely saturated the fabric of that time and place. Leaving crystallized gems of madness frozen in the subzero setting. As I witnessed this marvelous chaos I was overwhelmed with gratitude that I could share in the exquisite malice of natures pitiless destruction, knowing that it would give way to new existence. The trip of the overcharged opus ensued until absolute exhaustion eclipsed the apex and complete darkness flooded in.
I woke up and dug myself out of the rubble. Then I sifted through the jewels of mania until I found a collection of malleable shards that I could piece together into a luminescent kaleidoscope of jagged euphoria. A spectacle forged within the inferno of an artist’s compulsion. Just in time as the snow melted away, the booze ran dry, and the ghost became angry. I give to you as it was given to me- Vision’s debut album: “13 Tracks”.