Volcano Pit (you swallowed me!)

I went to a Sufjan Stevens concert the other night at the Paramont in Oakland (mainly featuring the album Age of Adz, partly with his EP of All Delighted People). My Oakland experiences have varied lately. Lots of Lake Meritt... not to bore you...

The concert held great expectations of mine- not only was it long sought after, the music was like a pool of worship in my soul. I needed that. Instead I felt that it was an unabashed celebration of Sufjan's poor decisions and self indulgence. Though I did not like the American Apparel media video in the background, nor the back up dancers with their silver breasts, and the vo-co topped it, I did admire other aspects (which feelings slightly abused).

I admired the honestly of creation- that what he needed was to get these things off his chest (at who's expense?) and to experiment with different forms of music (not why I liked him though in the first place) and the need to move and dance. Those, I respect.

He said a few things that hit home. Mainly that he was considering the prospects of jumping into the mouth of a volcano (we are still breathing).

Then he spoke and explained the artist Royal Robinson who was an Outsider artist from Louisiana whom much of the album art came from. Though I didn't learn about him in my Outsider art class, its funny how things coincide at the same time... Today I was in that class and there was another good quote from a film about Henry Darger. "Just because there are questions doesn't mean there are answers."

Thank you Ryan for talking to me. My problems are lots of little ones.
I can't pull this off as easy as a sock.
But maybe one sock at a time.