Goodbye to an idol. RIP David Bowie.

Yesterday, I decided to take a break from the internet for a couple days to focus on writing. Such self-discipline is necessary, as I'm easily distracted. Then something awful happened. David Bowie died. Suddenly, I was hooked to the net again, browsing and reflecting on how much I adored this man.

I was feeling too distracted to work on my latest piece of fiction, when it hit me. I could write something else. I could say goodbye to David Bowie. Once again, he’s inspiring me to express myself, just as he’s done all my life.

At six years old, I fell in love. I wanted to live in the world of Labyrinth. While watching that movie I remember thinking that if I were Sarah, I’d strike a bargain with the Goblin King: "Return Toby to my parents, and I’ll stay here." (Isn’t that what the whole thing was really about?) Sure, sure, the Goblin King was evil, but I also felt he was lonely and misunderstood. I suppose this is where my fascination with bad boys began. :)

And my fascination with Bowie stayed with me. My childhood was awkward. My pre-teens were awkward. My teens were awkward. But always, there was Bowie. He was awkward, too. Hell, the guy had mismatched eyes. He made being different look good… and sound good, too!

So the world didn’t understand me. Who cared. At least one guy did. With lyrics like “And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds, are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through,” I knew he got it. And I felt a little better while listening.

In ninth grade, I had to do a project for school and design my own Utopia. I named it Valley Stardust and the leader was a starman modeled after Ziggy Stardust. I have a folder full of my old writings in my bedroom closet, and I dug this project out today. Here’s some pics.

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I fueled up on Bowie during my teen years to power me through the bad days. Not every album or side project made my favorites list, but it was always good. He had that way about him. He painted, he sang, he acted, he played instruments. Like King Midas and the golden touch, everything Bowie touched turned to art.

Creative people look to other creative people for inspiration. In that respect, Bowie not only gave the world his own art; he inspired countless artists after him to make their own. If you ask me, a life in the arts is always well spent, but in this particular case, I think his 69 years adds up to much more. Perhaps we should count his time in light years. :)

Now that I’ve gotten this out of my system and said goodbye to a lifelong idol, I really should get back to writing. Because that's what David Bowie would want me to do. I know the kids will distract me. I know my crazy life will go on around me while I struggle to create. But I won’t sweat it. There can be no art without life, and life is meant to be lived. As a wise man once said:

“Let the children lose it. Let the children use it. Let all the children boogie.”

Born David Robert Jones, he ended up going by David Bowie so people wouldn’t confuse him with Davey Jones of The Monkees. Well, we couldn’t confuse him with anyone now. He was truly one of a kind. RIP, Mr. Bowie. Much love, much respect. The starman has returned to the stars forevermore.