The Immortal Goblin King


I can’t really say good morning, because it’s not. I learned of David Bowie’s passing when I woke up this morning. The world has lost a creative genius, and the afterlife’s ongoing party just had someone new grab the karaoke mic.

I did not ever have the pleasure of meeting him. Nor did I see him in concert. My exposure was solely through his music and acting. ‘Labyrinth’ came out the year I graduated from high school. His music was the soundtrack of my teenage years. Even though we never met, we have one thing in common now.

We’re both immortal.

All creative souls are. It doesn’t matter if you sing, compose, paint, act, or write. It’s not dependent on sales or awards. The moment you make something and share it with someone else, anyone else, you become immortal.

Those words may well be read by someone decades after you pass away. The song could be played at weddings for generations to come. The really low budget indie film that you helped your friend make in college? Even if it was never shown at Sundance, it exists.

Creative souls aren’t always recognized for their craft during their lifetime. Mr. Bowie was fortunate to have been. I for one am glad I walked the earth at the same time he did. Along with many other great artists, both musical and literary.

One measure of an artist’s success doesn’t get measured until they pass into the next realm. It’s how the world mourns them. They tributes, how they’re remembered.

So, before you rant about sales being slow or your genius not being recognized, think on that. Would you like to be remembered fondly? Or as the jackass who was never satisfied? Because the latter won’t get invited to join the party.

And I’d rather sing with The Goblin King and Freddie Mercury.


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