My name is Rob Morrow. I am a Central Illinois native, a proud omnivore, a software developer by day and when the sun goes down I morph into a musical ninja. I am skeptical of religion, the government, and most news reporting agencies; they make me feel funny in weird places. I drink copious quantities of coffee and green tea; neither is particularly enlightening. I’m generous in sharing the covers and I always give one last kiss before I leave. I heart the solitude of peace and quiet, yet my figurative claddagh ring is blissfully turned inward. I have no reflection as a result of a bizarre bedroom encounter. I believe the answer to life, happiness and the universe is 42. My name, translated literally, means “bright fame,” which I find to be ridiculously scandalous. I have a perpetual fever that doctors have prescribed large doses of cowbell in hopes of curing; it’s working. I am diagnosed as having Attention Deficit Disorder and as such my brain is constantly underworked and overpaid. Additionally, because of my lazy brain I occasionally don’t finish a sente… I dislike seafood and enjoy most vegetables. I had a ceramic guard dog named Spenis, who has been tragically replaced with a magical cat named Vera. I am in love with this cat but admit she was more than likely a callgirl in a previous incarnation.
While the above diatribe would hardly construe a view of psychological panoramic vistas it should certainly offer enough of a window for curious gawkers and skeptical observers alike. Describing one’s self, I’ve always thought, can certainly become an endeavor for the vain and conceited. Particularly interesting to note is the paradox of reading something personally endearing and giving creedence to it when in the land of never-ending anonymity. Such is the way of our strange, always-evolving culture. In short, I’m gonna say the same thing any man with two penises says when his tailor asks him if he dresses to the right or left: yes.
Art, in all of its many splendid forms, has always been something I’ve kept in my breast pocket. There is certainly something to be said for creation. Raw, emotive, and visceral; the act of creation is as close as humanity will ever get with respect to attaining omnipotence. I’m also heavily seduced by the flipside of the coin, as destruction is itself a form of creation.
I started doodling on anything porous enough to absorb ink as a child. Some of my earliest compositions, in all of their brilliance, were Mr. Cleaned away from the walls at the expense of my mother’s almost endless supply of patience. Despite these minor misunderstandings about what constitutes a usable canvas I grew up in an environment in which self-expression and artistic freedom were highly encouraged and sought out. It was a wonderful environment for a child and fostered many great leaps into different avenues of exploration: literature and prose, exposure to culture and lifestyle, and of course music. All of these, in my mind, are still very relevant and just as important as the next.
Whether coincidence or otherwise, the kinds of art that have always captivated me were at odds with each other. I tend towards the minimalistic, feeling that space can truly accentuate a subject matter and provide a depth and character that is simply unattainable any other way. The flipside being that I can find underlying beauty in even the biggest mess.
Musically, I obsess over the details. I couldn’t write a hook or a catchy melody if I were gnawing the business end of a pistol. The music currently taking residence in my audio player is always evolving, always changing, but it tends to follow a typical theme of great lyrical content, great vibe, or great technical playing. My own playing started with the slide trombone in grade school, which I continued to play through high school. Pre-high school also saw a vague attempt at learning the guitar but ultimately settling on the bass, which I still play regularly today. Throughout high school I dabbled in many other areas, including piano, saxophone, and even drums. While I can play none of them well, I would consider myself a musical whore.
Artistically I have no formal training other than a few classes in high school and a mandatory photography class during college. All were amazing to me. I’m hoping that very soon I will be able to return to the land of higher education and take in the myriad different techniques and tools I’ve been craving to learn. Professionally I attended a combination of technical schools and traditional universities. During those technical years my major focal point was the web, software development and eventually network infrastructure and security.
I don’t feel that I have a creative process, but if I had to describe the means by which I accomplish anything I can say it happens in spurts. It is extremely rare that I sit down to a composition, design or my music with a complete thought about what is about to happen. It’s very spontaneous, very random, and I’ve been known to experience creative droughts that can last months at a time. It is during those times that I accomplish the most internally, almost as though I shed away an old skin to make way for the new.
That’s all I can say for now. If I haven’t already scared you away with my self-absorbed, conceited attitude (I taste sarcasm in the air) and you wish to know more about my views on life, music, art, the universe, love, creation, destruction and how to properly make a mess… I need to see a tailor about a new pair of trousers. See you there.
Love and peace,
Rob Morrow
