Live music feeds my soul. Leads me into a tunnel and then gently, or wantonly, pushes me out into a velvet meadow. Swaying milkweed, sunny caresses, feet stomping on crumbly earth, spirit rustling the treetops.
And the singer, all swagger and sex, inhaling the screaming ecstasy of the crowd surrounding him.
I want to meet him later, but not to hook up. I want to hear what makes him tick. How his creativity plays with him or tortures him. What voice does he hear? What makes him ecstatic? What feeds his soul?