The "Magician" type (Fig. 4) leverages his position to gather data from a multitude of angles; for him the border is primarily a place of convenience. The "Paranoid" (Fig. 5) seeks to discard everything that is inessential to his in-between status and is suspicious of data that is too far in one direction or another; for him the border is primarily a place of intrigue and experiment. "Humpty Dumpty" (Fig. 6) cleaves to the border; for him it is his domain, and functions primarily as a place of identity. It should be noted that the above are by no means meant to comprise a complete set, but to merely be illustrative of some of the kinds of activity and attitudes that may occur alone, in combination, or in stages.

I bring my own baggage to the notion of spatial conceptions of borders, first that I was born in Louisville, the northernmost city in the Civil War border state of Kentucky, and grew up a few miles across the river in the gently rolling hills of southern Indiana. What this all meant to me evolved significantly after I left the so-called Kentuckiana region and was called upon to answer questions about its culture (rather more Southern than Midwestern), the local accent (we worshed our hair; we roasted hot dogs on the far), and topography (hilly). It was further accentuated by a sort of bifurcated musical education. I began playing fiddle when I was five years old, having asked for one for Christmas after seeing Bill Monroe and his band perform on television. My parents were wonderful and supported me by getting me lessons with a local fiddler, who went on to make a career in Nashville. That same teacher suggested I also enroll in the preparatory department at the University of Louisville to start my classical training, and so for most of my formative years I had these simultaneous musical upbringings, learning symphonic repertoire while traveling around to bluegrass festivals and Old-time fiddle contests. It would be difficult to overstate the effect this had on me. Growing up, people always used to ask me what the difference was between a violin and a fiddle, and the music I make is my attempt at answering that question and at reconciling those two parts of my life.