Clear Moon in a Black Sky

last night i saw my precious angel sufjan stevens at long last sing about his misery and fill the theater with his tiny voice, and then close with hotline bling while dancing like the dorky man he is in front of drake’s giant face because he knows exactly what i want to see. and between seeing him in front of me singing the songs so personal to him and so important to me and cracking his voice around the words while his home videos played and the endless “we’re all gonna die” explosion and blue bucket of gold descending into a like 15 minute freaky anxious experimental improv thing ending with him with his face in his hands wiping his tears oh god and everything I have been lifted out of my body and reborn 20 times

“this show is like a funeral. it sucks doing this show every night. sing about death, why did i do this to myself? and yet, i find some kind of transcendence every evening bringing into the universe my misery, sharing it with you, it’s a shared experience. it’s an exchange of energy, it’s an exchange of emotions and sound. it’s so important to do this in public with you and to look out and see the multiplicity of experience, all the faces. the breath, the heartbeat, the life is so important to me, to be a spectator of that. even though you’re watching me, i’m also watching you, and it just keeps me going, keeps me alive.”