I love reading diaries of artists and writers because it’s really hard to explain the creative life to the average person. People always ask me, “What do you do all day?” Your daily life can feel a little bit indulgent. When I read diaries and letters, I’m always struck by how banal it all is. It’s not about creating most of the time. It’s just about living. I find great comfort in those texts.

If by the second or third day I’m stuck and it’s not working, I usually will scrap it. I find an open tuning and start picking around until I find a melody or something I like. I follow that melody to the end of the song. I have to be willing to scrap the entire thing and move on because I can’t waste a lot of time. Everyone has a different approach with writing, this long excursion, excavating out of the ground, like you’re digging and finding it can be this long process. For me it’s more like following a bird. If it flies away too quickly, it just wasn’t meant to be.

I like to hammer on and get it done. That doesn’t mean you should rush it or be impatient. I’m very fortunate, because doing what I do, there is a matter of deadlines that come into place if I’m making a record. There is the pressure of having members of my band that I employ who have mortgages, and then management and record company who rely on me to deliver. But I’m glad to have that pressure. Again, it’s a privilege. It means I’m doing well, but it means I have to deliver. It gives you an endpoint.

No, I guess I don’t really worry about that. The answer to a creative block is just to do another creative thing. To me a creative thing is almost anything. So like, literally, if I’m writing and can’t think of anything, I’ll just start moving my fingers typing, sometimes not even words. Just going through the artificial surface motion of it will get your brain going.