Goodbye, Starman

Today has been one of those days. The American Library Association made history by announcing that a picture book, LAST STOP ON MARKET STREET, had both won the Newbery and garnered a Caldecott Honor, and it was announced that David Bowie had passed away.

Stars were born, and a star died.

It happens every day, but I'm feeling it keenly on this cold January afternoon.

Taken at the "David Bowie Is…" exhibit at the AGO.

I can't remember the first time I heard a David Bowie track. I can't remember which track it was. It feels like he's always been there.

But I do remember a girl I used to look after. She lived in a house in Kentish Town, and she was eleven, and she was the biggest David Bowie freak I had ever met. She would dress up like him after school and belt out Life on Mars as if she had written it herself, and it was wonderful. Through his music and his artistry and weirdness and his sheer force of personality, he gave her a bit of his stardust. He gave a bit of it to all of us.

Goodbye, Starman.

Accountability Count: Up at 6 every day, except when I slept through my alarm this morning; one hour of writing or revision done every day; music done every other day; language not done at all, ACK; blogging done and edited, but password forgotten so can't post, DOUBLE ACK; social media time seems to be under control THANK HEAVEN FOR SMALL MIRACLES.

Reading: THE NEST, by Kenneth Oppel, illustrated by Jon Klassen

Watching: LABYRINTH. Of course.