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Tuesday, January 12, 2016

We could be us, just for one day

When I was a kid I had imaginary friends.
“Two sets,” I told my friend yesterday, “in the wall in different rooms. My brother and I both had them, and sometimes they talked to each other.”
The hallmark of creativity, imaginary friends help you get through difficult times as a kid, when adults are not giving you what you need but you don’t even realize it.
In your imaginary world you have conversations you can't have in your real life; your friends talk to you, you get ideas and work it all out in play.
Our imaginary friends are accessible: they listen; we can be ourselves.
David Bowie was our imaginary friend. He was and remains accessible to all of us. Through his music or lyrics or both, through his artistry, his characters and roles, and through his own play, he shared his imaginary world. Bowie communicated so many possibilities in life through art. We each had a personal relationship with Bowie, whether in a stadium among 45,000 people, in a car with the radio blaring, or dancing around my cousin’s bedroom in Philadelphia to Young Americans over and over in the summer of 1976.
Our personal friend and hero, our spaceman, our actor, our fantasy lover, our courageous villain, our fashion plate, our mysterious, generous friend. He gave us all these things and made us feel love and loved. We could be us, even just for one day.

(There is more to say about AALS, but for today I share in the world's grief for our loss.)

Posted by DBorman on January 12, 2016 at 10:57 AM | Permalink


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