"Each day I also try to draw. It's a similar expulsion of buildup: Milking the cows every morning. Checking the chickens' eggs. Why should that be limited to a certain medium? Shit builds up inside you on multiple levels; if you don't degrease the system it clogs. Drawing brings me back to reality by sending me past reality, a sort of out-of-body perspective. The drawings creep off the page; they have to, if you believe in liberation. They climb to the walls the ceiling, they surround… they surround the drums. (I spend time decorating our practice room, and the rest of my house.) They influence the sound; before you know it they don't want to be dislodged from each other. They cohabitate, so they actually complement. They form and inform each other: I dumped a bag of jellybeans in a shallow wood box and covered them with glue. The jellybeans were making me sick. They went from friend to enemy, now they hang on the wall. I pass them on the way to the drum room. I'm wound up on sugar, singing jellybean songs. The colors could make a nice print; the print could cover the walls; glued jellybeans all across the floor. We could and should be writing a song based on fourteen small colored circles next to each other overlapping slightly. Why not? I come out of drumming with images in my head; drumming opens valves to drawing, back and forth. "

Brian Chippendale