Are You Writing From The Heart? Yes, Sufjan Stevens Is.

“And when you write a poem
I know the words,
I know the sounds
Before you write it down…”

                                Vito’s Ordination Song by Sufjan Stevens

       I once read an article about Sufjan Stevens, (an artist unfamiliar to me then), went to YouTube and listened to some of his songs—and I was instantly blown away. Now, for the past few weeks, I listen to nothing but his music.

       Sufjan, with his soft, gentle, beautiful  voice, poignantly sings about his mother ( Should Have Known Better), Jesus Christ (To Be Alone With You), his faith ( Seven Swans ), the Bible (The Transfiguration), his fondness for a girl and how he sees a future with her (The Dress Looks Nice on You), thinking of committing suicide (The Only Thing) his friends (Vito’s Ordination Song), death of a close friend (Casimir Pulaski Day), and a serial killer (John Wayne Gacy Jr.)  Jr. He even sings about his uncomfortable relationships with the same sex (Futile Devices). Yes, there are rumors that he is gay, but that’s digressing.

        His lyrics are oftentimes autobiographical, cryptic, symbolic, poetic and heartwarming and his melodies and instrumentation gorgeous and splendid.

       His latest album, Carrie & Lowell (2015), with heartbreaking songs that tackle his awkward and painful relationship with his late mother who abandoned him when he was a child, is simply a gem. The song Fourth of July, an imagined conversation between Sufjan and her mother as she lay dying of cancer in a hospital (he was really with her the night she died), is truly, truly brilliant—and truly, truly sad.

"Fourth Of July"

The evil it spread like a fever ahead
It was night when you died, my firefly
What could I have said to raise you from the dead?
Oh could I be the sky on the fourth of July?

“Well you do enough talk
My little hawk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We’re all gonna die.”

Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head
Was it all a disguise, like Junior High
Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction
Now where am I? My fading supply

“Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My little Versailles.”

The hospital asked should the body be cast
Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky
Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth
Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?

“Shall we look at the moon, my little loon
Why do you cry?
Make the most of your life, while it is rife
While it is light

Well you do enough talk
My little hawk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We’re all gonna die.”