So. David Bowie has died. It makes us all so terribly sad. A being that created so much stunning, moving, joyous, sensitive, gorgeous art for our ears for some reason had to leave us. A person who seemed to so get it, has to be gone. Thankfully, we have his stellar, boundless, timeless music to soothe our heartache. It’s the only thing that really can.
Awhile back I wrote a draft (or seven) of a script about my love of music and the period of time I worked in the music business. I wrote it as a TV show because I figured everyone would love to be in that world and would want to come back week after week. I really loved my time there. It was like college for a music head. (I didn’t go to college so I’m assuming college means experiencing a singular time indulging in something you love with like-minded people and having lots of crushes on musicians.) I’m sharing this portion of the script, the beginning, the set up, because David Bowie “makes an appearance.” It’s a teeny love letter. My larger love letter resides in my heart where I cherish him so and am grateful to have his music to comfort, inspire, and, of course, rock me.
Thank you, Mr. Bowie.
