I overslept this morning. I woke up and I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was 8am. I then saw a BBC News notification. ‘Music legend, David Bowie has died.’ I thought that it was either a hoax or I was probably still asleep and needed to wake up properly. I sat up. I checked the Guardian online, back to BBC News, Facebook, Twitter. I got up and I cried. I loved David Bowie. I am always playing his music. When his album Blackstar was released last Friday, I bought it straightaway because this was the musical genius known as David Bowie.
I am unable to quantify how much I loved David Bowie. I grew up with him. My mum loved him. One of the first music videos I remember watching was Ashes to Ashes. I was only about 3 years old and I was mesmerised watching Bowie wearing a weird clown suit walking ,with even more strange people, in front of a bulldozer across the beach or the moon or a random building site.Who knew? Remember I was only 3 years old I didn’t have a clue. I just loved it.
We played his music, we danced to his music. We watched his videos. My brothers and I watched him metamorphose right in front of our eyes. Physically and musically. He had me transfixed and dancing around at 7 years old to ‘Let’s Dance’, ‘China Girl’ and my favourite ‘Modern Love.’
I watched him blow away the stage at Live Aid. He had style. He was innovative. He was Ziggy Stardust. David Jones. The Thin White Duke. He had different colour eyes. He was the man who sold the world and I didn’t mind one bit. He was the Starman. He was art. He was the Goblin King.
I was only 9 years old and the first time I saw David Bowie act was in Labyrinth. I loved Labyrinth. My brothers loved Labyrinth. David Bowie epitomised what it meant to be creative and my first attempt at writing a book was because of David Bowie. I was 9 years old. I had watched Labyrinth for the millionth time. That poor videotape was worn out and one afternoon I decided that I was going to write a book and that book would be called Labyrinth.
Yes, it was probably no more than a 9 year olds attempts at fan fiction but I was writing. David Bowie made me want to write so I did. I sat down in my bedroom where the BBC Micro computer and monitor was and I sat down and wrote. I even printed it out. Somewhere, probably buried in the loft, is my first book. My version of the Labyrinth and I thank the legend, the icon, David Bowie for that gift of creativity.
David Bowie was a man who showed us that creativity should have no boundaries and that we can be whoever and whatever we want to be . R.I.P. David Bowie. You will never be forgotten. It was an honour to share the world with you.