My Influences Are Getting Their Wings and I Hate It.

The beginning of 2016 did not bring me even one thought of anything hopeful and yet, nothing the opposite. In fact, it seem like Christmas was very quiet and the transition into New Years had no effect. There was no change, no dreams no well, anything.  I had no idea of how much the world was going to exhale and let go the souls that had influenced me, they were part of my life although we never met.

They would come and go, like breezes when moments required and were dedicated to have have meaning to me.  I speak of all those musicians and artists. It started with Lemmy Kilmister; David Bowie; Alan Richman; and today Glenn Frey.  These people who had impact on me, were suddenly gone. I did not know they were sick.  I would say that rightly so, being ill is a private matter and a family matter. No one, especially those that are in the limelight should have to give any energy to paparazzi or anything else that detracts from either them getting better or them sharing their last years with their families and friends.

I can respect that so this is the only way I know how to express their impact and my sadness at their passing.  The moments when Bowie's music would echo down a hallway, at a dance or Glen's voice letting me know that the heartbreak I felt would pass, that I could get through this and that life, well even though you think you are going to stay here, everyone gets to leave.  I felt danger with Lemmy and dug the intense smashing of notes that was like a pile-driver on a pin. I could feel anything and everything with the music these people created and shared. I know they did not do this alone, and there is many, many more that have gone with them this week so my respects to all of those that have transitioned.

As far as Alan Richman, he gave 150% to a  character , whether this was in live theatre or movies. His twists and nuances were like watching an orchestra play. An intense actor who seemed to say practice makes perfect and that the roles he took on, seemed tailored to him. Was there anything he could not portray? Probably not.

I will take my music, my movies and my memories of how all these artists intertwined with my life and hold them close to my heart. This is the only place where they are safe, where they live over and over again. Till I am not here and they will go with me.

To the world, please stop. I can only have so many heartbreaks in life, the human race generally gives me more than enough on a day to day basis with the way they treat each other, so maybe we could keep the ones that do not? What do you think?