David Strackany, the man behind Paleo, seemed to be begging to be a contradiction. The artist who had once written 365 songs in one year, elected to write, ‘I do not exist,’ on the chalkboard to create his own backdrop. But it wasn’t one singular statement. He repeated it over and over again until its very declaration lost meaning and stopped being as much a Cartesian paradox as hyperactive, existential musings.
In front of this self-defeating wall, Paleo didn’t close his eyes, meditate, or let his gaze wander into the back rows of the classrooms. Instead, he stared directly into the camera as if to establish his own existence so powerfully and unequivocally that it makes the observer uneasy. We want to believe his declaration, but we can’t argue with his stare.
Strackany takes the little guitar with him because he says its easier to write songs with it while he’s driving. For every art there is a component of obsession, and for Strackany that obsession manifests itself in a commitment to songwriting. This same obsessiveness led him to methodically create his own backdrop, and probably led him to erase it when he was done.
Camera + Crew: Catherine Degennaro, Tiare Dunlap, GT Wrobel
Edits: Igor German