I spent part of the morning pacing around my apartment, agitated and distracted. I get this way sometimes: unable to concentrate, feeling this pressure building up, a need for release that will not be ignored. I have so much I want to express, but cannot grab onto it tight enough to pull it out. I can’t coax it out with sweet talk and promises of delight, it doesn’t respond to bullying or the cold shoulder or deep breathing. These thoughts are stuck inside me, anoxic and tight under my masks, like mute fossils quietly concealed in my protective strata, hoping to be left undisturbed yet aching to be heard.I have examined every angle, each dusty piece of floor-strewn wreckage, the airless bottoms and the wind-stripped tops, of every secret room inside myself, and have found deeper beauty and ugliness than I have ability to express. I am driven to show this universe to someone, to everyone, but I can’t figure out how.And then there are musicians like Antony & the Johnsons (my latest obsession, thank you BC). I am in awe of artists who are not afraid. They rip themselves open, dig into the darkest corners, and pull themselves inside out, bloody, broken and bruised, for anyone to judge. Antony Hegarty, the artistic force of Antony & the Johnsons, has a voice that makes me weep on a cellular level. This is someone who not just knows pain, he gets down on his knees and makes love to it. He is his art, and his art is pure, raw, and gorgeous. My heart tightens up when I listen to their music, like it’s been dipped into an astringent laced with tortured desolation. Yet somehow, the feeling I’m left with is one of comfort. He has figured out how to tap into his dark places and let the pain, the beauty, the song, flow out effortlessly, a river of molten emotion.Lyrically the music is beautiful as well. It's sparse yet perfectly descriptive, haunting and at moments even uplifting. Piano, cello, some light percussion accompanies the voice. Poetry.While I’m on the subject of poetry and artists who live their art and know how to express the dark/light within, check out Sam Skeist’s poetry here and here and a spoken word pieces here and here. Sam’s honesty and commitment to experiencing and truly living life (the highest highs and the lowest lows, sometimes at once) are intoxicating, and a continual source of awe to me. Love ya, Sam!