There’s a strange expectation placed on artists—especially women—that whatever we share should arrive finished, polished, and perfectly explained. As if the only respectable moment to speak is after the mess has been cleaned up and the receipt neatly folded.

That has never been how my life worked.

None of the curiosities that become long or brief careers arrived in straight lines, and none of the work I’m proud of came from pretending I already had it all figured out.

Most of it came from tinkering. From asking questions out loud. From following curiosities that didn’t yet have a name or a guarantee anyone would care if I produced it.

Which is why I built my YouTube channel, Maxximillian.

Not to teach.
Not to preach (except for the gospels of my 4 apostles: AI, AR, blockchain, crypto).
And definitely not
to perform expertise.

I built it because I wanted a place to talk honestly about what I’m working on while I’m working on it. Or as soon as it's fucking done.

Because interactive art is like a human—it should come with a friendly guide. Mine does: me.

On the channel, I do a behind-the-scenes show called BACKENDS, where I open up the actual process behind my musical and visual projects—the ideas, the tools, the systems, the moments where something clicks and what it took to get there, acknowledging moments where it doesn’t yet.

It turns out that’s the part people almost never get to see.

We live in a culture obsessed with outcomes. Novels without drafts. Art without sketches. Music arrives packaged to eat without utensils divorced from the cooks that seasoned it. And then we wonder why what could have been a meal is sold like a snack.

I’m more interested in sharing the source of the mayhem to exponentialize the power flowing through the storm that is you. ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐°‧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

That’s also why I’m starting a new series on the channel—deep dives into the histories of the musical genres I work in. Not because I’m trying to become a historian, and not because I want to explain music to anyone.

But because understanding where a sound comes from changes how we receive it.

When you know the lineage, the self-imposed niche constraints, what became canon that began as accidents, and the cultural pressures that shaped a genre, you stop treating it like background noise. You start listening differently. More generously. More attentively.

And when I'm making music that isn’t just an MP3 (or a fat new WAV, Nerds)—but something people feel good about buying in beyond an artist or future sale we invest in—that context of our own relation to what moved the artist to play / sing the thing matters.

If you’re the kind of person who likes knowing how things are made.
If you’re curious about why certain sounds land the way they do.
If you enjoy watching ideas take shape before they’re finished—

—you’d probably like what’s happening over there.

You are invited to enjoin my video castle in the sky on the Maxximillian channel on YouTube. I look forward to your insights and commentary as I reveal the histories of the genres of music I sing, songwrite and produce in.