This was not the blog I wanted to write today, Gentle Reader.
I was going to write something about new beginnings, about starting the spring semester with a new attitude.
But David Bowie died.
Bowie is my favorite artist. I own most of his albums, seen him in concert, followed his career closely, and now, he’s gone. I feel like a hole has been ripped out of the universe, because he was so bright. So amazing.
I imagine this is what it felt like when John Lennon died, for my mother and thousands of others.
There’s nothing to say that hasn’t been said better by hundreds of others today, by Bowie himself. But I wish him well on Mars, and I wish healing and love to those he’s left behind.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 