Sean McConnell

Sean McConnell has just one tattoo — his wife’s name. It represents a commitment, a sign that’s more than skin-deep. But on the cover of the Nashville singer-songwriter’s new album, SKIN, art and symbolism bloom like tattoo ink itself. An open palm beacons listeners, itself a symbol of his faith, while emblems of Earth and nature, faith and love serve as tangible and metaphorical guideposts along McConnell’s renewed musical journey.

“SKIN, to me, is kind of where I'm at on my journey with being comfortable in your skin, in your physical body. Divinity is in flesh and bone, not just in heaven somewhere, someday,” McConnell says. “Lyrically, the humanness of skin is obviously apparent, but I'm always attracted to this meeting of body and spirit, flesh and spirit.”

As McConnell crossed the threshold of 40 years old, he began to mine the depths of his identify as an artist, father, husband, and human. As such, many of the songs on the 11-track LP seek to find a sense of grounding in the chaos and change. The beauty of SKIN, however, is that McConnell manages to explore life’s paradoxes without needing to find answers. In fact, he hopes that the lyrics leave topics open ended for listeners to discover their own meanings.

Ultimately, SKIN serves as a reintroduction of McConnell, in and out of his music. It’s about, “discovering that the journey inward, underneath the skin, is truly more expansive, perilous, and enlightening than any journey outward.”