It is a strange and confusing experience mourning the loss of a celebrity idol. On one hand I scorn myself mercilessly. How can I feel so much grief for losing someone who is essentially a stranger to me?
On the other hand I find gentle clemency for my sadness. A human being, who I considered worthy of worship after a decade of devotion, is suddenly dead. A person I admired, revered and aspired to become more like. A person I watched, read and studied routinely for ten years. Of course I’m going to feel it.
Anthony Bourdain – thank you for everything you gave me. Thank you for everything you gave the world. Your honesty, humour and way with words will forever be a revelation.
This loss has caused me to deeply contemplate why I choose the heroes I do. Anthony Bourdain, Nick Cave, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Grace Slick, Patti Smith…you get the idea.
I believe that I worship the creatively ingenious people who embody the fearless, reckless courage I cannot access but desperately long for. I believe I have made myself smaller because of my fear of that courage.
“I exist in the shadows of my broken idols.”
I believe it is time to step into the light.