In Celtic folklore, places in this world where the veil between Heaven and Earth is permeable are known as “thin places.” And if you’re open to something greater than yourself, a thin place comes to you. Jason Hawk Harris knows; he’s been living in one for the last five years. “The process of grieving my mother’s death, of watching my life kind of fall apart around me brought me to this weird sort of nirvana,” he explains. “In those moments, I could feel these different worlds colliding around me, and I knew I wanted to find a way to capture it.” With his extraordinary new album, Thin Places, Harris has done precisely that. Written from start to finish as one continuous artistic statement, the set draws on Harris’ extensive background in classical music to create a work of beauty, pain, and catharsis. Blurring the lines between country, gospel, soul, and chamber folk, the songs here are deeply personal, staring down loss, self-destruction, and recovery with unflinching honesty, and the arrangements are similarly bold and cinematic.