Sunday, September 17, 2006

Dirty Microphone

I know what it feels like to sing my guts out. I know what it feels like to leave a piece of myself on that microphone. My actual intestines left hanging on the black wire...to be picked up and swept away by the cleaning crew.

So impassioned - so raw. The bubbling and gurgling that led to absolute fury. The fury that led to the most beautiful creation of her life. Someone asked her what had happened. What had made her sing that way? She had always sounded good, but something new was happening.

She smiled. She realized that she now understood what it was to sing what she was feeling and force the audience to feel it with her. She felt anguish. She felt loss. She felt rage.

She left her guts on the mike...and it felt so good.