Photo by OlyKaz Photography
In elementary school there was Labyrinth. There was the Goblin King. Tall, slender, glamorous. That wild plume of blond spikey hair. That cod piece. In middle school there was Hunky Dory. Changes. Life On Mars. OH! YOU PRETTY THINGS! The extraterrestrial being pulling yellow locks back off of porcelain skin. There was watching my best friend in modern dance parading around the stage to Golden Years. In high school there was Ziggy Stardust. There were spiders from mars. There was the quintessential rock star. Sexual and not all at once. There was this androgynous being. This guiding light. A beacon of strangeness. There was strength in that strangeness. There was The Man Who Sold The World. The Jean Genie. After high school, there was downhill. There were late nights and dark, smoke filled rooms. But there was also The Prettiest Star. There was Panic In Detroit waiting at the bus stop at 5am in the rain. Drive-In Saturdays and Cracked Actors. There was sitting in the basement finding Heathen and Afraid. There was long drives and Low. Then there was Black Star. Then he was gone. But only in body. Not in sound, not in influence, not in inspiration, not in reinvention, not in innovation, not in revolution. Only in body. Not the path blazed by the bright burning Starman. Not the ashes that continue to rain down from the heavens, left over from the flames of the brilliance of his being. Only in body. Not the vast and unending difference he made in my life, starting at 6 years old and continuing as the thread that runs through everything I do. For this I am eternally grateful.
“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.” -David Bowie Changes (1972)