Here in Philly I have, in addition ro my duffel bag, some belongings in storage. (Including much of my own writing over the years, and the mass of documents related to the founding history of the Underground Literary Alliance.)
I retrieved among these items a dusty cd player. At my last job in Detroit a goth co-worker gave me a cd she'd burned, but until now I was unable to play it. "Fleet Foxes." I've been listening to it nightly. It's given me great sustenance-- which, after all, is the purpose of art.
The music's simplicity gives it emotion-- for much of it, harmonious voices accompanied by simple guitar. The voices carry echoes of the Renaissance, but also American roots music, with maybe a reminder of the Fleetwoods, and a dash of stripped-down Moody Blues tossed in. For me it's a reminder of the mystery and simplicity of art, something I'd love to happily echo in my own work.