I have never really understood the concept of death. It just doesn’t seem like it should fit with the rest of life’s puzzle. The oddity that you will wake up to a day that will be your last; it simply stops like someone in the room has pulled the needle away from the record player and all of the music ceases to play. The party is over. The other odd thing is that the people around you at this party will meet this fate as well. Some of these people will be people you love, that inspire you, that bring joy, that bring the color to your skin. And they seem to disappear randomly too. One day after of interacting with someone (for in some cases years), they go to the bar to make themselves a drink but are suddenly escorted from the room without any explanation. They are just gone. Something that was beautiful just goes away, without a warning and we slapped this happening with the label of death.
We try and dress it up with ceremonies, poems, and music to try and understand it or control it, but if you ask me it does not make it better. It’s still an unforgivably cruel concept that should be abolished at once. It is especially cruel when death happens to one of the greats: the ones that are the crafters of great words, sounds, or pictures. They seem to leave a black hole in the party that you’re at. I find my brain goes into full spasm mode when this happens; a crime happens, but there is no one to try in court for this desecration. Only heavy sadness is left with that feeling of no understanding why it has happened.
So, what happened? David Bowie died…. No, that can’t be right. I’m pretty sure he is not even human. How could Starman be taken away? Where is the math in that? How could the person who crafted “Space Oddity” or “Ziggy Stardust” for the world not exist? That kind beautiful soul should shine bright for all time for us all to gaze at with cherished thoughts of appreciative love. How could that be gone? The sun shines forever dimmer on the world of music with the only course of action that makes sense is to fight this unjustified crime and to play his music loud and louder than any music has ever been played before. We should project songs like “Moonage Daydream” into the hearts of all the stars as some sort of pearl gravestone. It does not make it better, but it’s the closest we could get to a proper crypt.
Next, the music of David Bowie should be introduced to the curriculum of all music classes next to the likes of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Ludwig Van Beethoven or Johann Sebastian Bach. Children as young as five years old will hear and will be asked to study the sounds of “Queen Bitch” or “Suffragette City” along Beethoven’s “5th.” Students of costume design must also study David Bowie for an entire year in order to understand the style-able fashion of freaky. Then of course film students may watch and study “Labyrinth” during their freshman year, studying scene by scene over a three month period. Babe with the power.
None of these things will reverse the black hole; none of it makes the concept of death make sense. None of it truly makes it better but it’s all we can do. We bow, applaud, appreciate, cry out our thank you’s, and remember one of the great crafters of color and beauty as he concludes his final performance and steps through the door leaving the stars looking very different today.