David Bowie passed away yesterday. You’ve probably read the news that cancer took him—just like it has taken so many bright stars. He was, in his later years incredibly private, happy to live with his wife and daughter in New York, but he left us one last album as a parting gift.
I can remember when Bowie came into my life, and I can feel the thread of his influence running through it, like one of those beautiful and bizarre melodies he made. I even wrote a blogpost about how his creativity, inspired me, and  what lessons fellow creatives can take from his life. Go read it if you need a lift, or a kick in the  pants.
This time, I wanted to share my personal memories.
What’s That Feeling?
Like most women in the 1980s, I watched Labyrinth and put myself in Sarah’s place. I had a little more connection with her than most. I was fifteen years old, and I too had a younger brother that might have been Toby. David Bowie was an eye-opener. Here was his wild haired man, who could manipulate glass spheres, steal babies, and sing so beautiful you might just forget about the baby. He also had this air of knowledge and control, that to a teenage girl was intoxicating.
I admit it, Bowie had my attention.
Not Like the Others
Then as I went through school, everyone was listening to Duran Duran, A-Ha, and I was listening to Bowie. I would walk everywhere, with Ziggy in my ears, blaring from my Walkman. Gradually I learned it was OK to be different, and to make your own path. That was a powerful message to a teenager, and I know there must have been thousands of people just like me who got that same thing from Bowie’s songs. Changes was the anthem for what I was feeling at that time, but then so was Rebel, Rebel.
Unable to see Bowie
Then there was the time Bowie came to Auckland, New Zealand. I was in Wellington, I was sixteen, and my Mum wouldn’t let me go. Seriously, I thought, they hate me! Of course, his concert was on a Sunday, my English exam for School Certificate was on the Monday. Now, as a mother myself I totally agree with my Mum, back then it made no sense. I contemplated in my head jumping a train, and riding it all the way to Auckland. I didn’t, and I learned a lesson; life isn’t fair, and sometimes you just have to cope with that. Waiting was all I had.
The rewards of a little age
It was years, years and years until I had another chance, but this time I didn’t need a train. Bowie came to Wellington, and apart from listening to him sing, he also taught another lesson to me. Wellington wasn’t kind that night. She lashed the open air stadium where he was playing with rain, lots and lots of rain. Bowie however, played on. Roadies ran out and mopped the stage, and he sang on. He didn’t huddle, instead he strode out onto the catwalk, rain pouring down him, and singing. He gave up comfort, and safety (heck he could have broken a hip out there) to get the job done. He was a professional, and he sucked it up to get it done. He was magnificent.
I sat there, soaked to the skin, and cried in the rain.
Now he is gone. I said to my husband this morning, “I’ve never lived in a world without David Bowie.”
He looked at me and smiled. “Baby,” he said, “There will never be a world without David Bowie. We still have everything he did.”
And when it comes to it, we all have to leave this world, but at least Bowie left it with more beauty and creativity than it had before.
Thank you for that David Jones…oh and Tesla too…
I’ve been watching Jessica Jones and Supergirl. Jessica Jones is more the character that I prefer to write myself. She’s complicated, messed up, and in your face. She has super powers, but those are almost secondary to the force of her personality. She makes me think of Socha from my Books of the Order in those respects, and I love seeing that on television. Krysten Ritter brings in an amazing preformance as Jessica, being tough with just enough of a hint of vulnerability underneath to keep her interesting.
It took a little bit longer for the show to find its legs—much like a rookie superhero might—but now I am really enjoying it. 
That might seem like escapism…which it is in part. The human mind has always craved a place to go where things make a kind of sense, a place of magic and heroes. That is why legends contain all those things, and why our ancestors after a back-breaking day in the field huddled around a fire to listen to a bard tell a tale. That ability to transcend time and place is incredible.
