I’m writing about writing and thought of this piece I wrote when Bowie passed away. Here it is again to remind you of his genius, and to inspire you to be a genius, too.
David Bowie was one of those artists—human beings—who did only exactly the things he wanted to do. He was beautiful, strange, androgynous, flawless, sexual, artistic, fucked up, supernatural. Bowie gave us permission to be all of those things as well, to be a star and a mess, to live our lives as creatively as we dare to, to have no fear and fulfill our every desire.
His creativity really impresses me, and it makes me feel bad about myself as an artist. People like Bowie are constantly creating something in some way, even if it’s just the way they decorate their bathroom. They cannot breathe if they do not have creativity flowing through their lungs. They cannot function without making something out of nothing. Every second of every day is consumed with art. When I read about such artists, when I see their creations and hear them speak about what…
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