Note: I wrote this essay over several weeks but wrote the main argument and narrative over the next few hours after the event I describe in the piece. I decided to keep it intact to respect and convey the immediacy of the experience. 

Last night, I cried myself to sleep after seeing a concert. I cried for two hours after it ended, full-body sobs taking over me on the sofa where I had sat to watch the livestream. The sobs overcame me every time I tried to calm myself, close my eyes, and go to sleep—it was, after all, three or four in the morning my time. I had to take a Tylenol, but the crying took over me in the kitchen as I grabbed a cup of water, opened the faucet, and doubled over the counter in pain. 

The sobs did not cease until I forced myself to lay in bed, the tears falling freely on my pillow and my body shaking intermittently from the crying. The sleep somehow came. 

Continue reading ➞ The Euphoria of Beauty and the Compulsion for Art