For years now, music has been a huge part of my life and mental health. For my first two years in college, I went to concerts all the time, The Star Place being my favorite venue. The whole experience — standing in line in the cold outside, showing my ID to the guy sitting behind the ticket booth window, checking out the merch stand and buying something even though I couldn’t really afford it, and especially standing shoulder-to-shoulder with hundreds of strangers, united by our love for the live experience that radiated from the stage just feet away — made my heart race, in the best of ways.
But none of it is possible anymore. Not at this time.
I am writing this while watching NIVA’s SOS Fest on YouTube, day one of three jam packed with artists who donated their time and talent to fundraise for independent music venues across the country. It’s cathartic, this approximation of live music after all this time, even if I have to listen alone from my bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if I cry before the night fades into slumber, from the amalgam of emotions welling from my stomach into my chest and up my throat. From the joy of this experience, from the devastation that this is all that’s possible. From the almost of this experience, in all of its not-quite-right glory.
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Photo by Vova Krasilnikov from Pexels
