Glen says to me, “I was thinking of a story for a video. I won’t go in to it but a girl is in her bedroom, she’s looking at herself in a mirror. There’s a packed suitcase beside her. We can see that she’s put on a face of make up, it’s early in the day. She knows she’s leaving home for good. In her expression she’s sure of her decision. She leans over to a poster on the wall of David Bowie, her only poster, and then gently whispers something to him. She’s whispering in to his ear. She takes the poster off the wall, rolls it up, picks up her bag. As she’s seen to walk out of her family home for the last time, she hands her little sister the Bowie poster, and leaves. There IS no pause to give a hug, or any kind of a sentimental exchange, it’s just about the Bowie poster, yunno? There’s more too it but I like that, don’t you?”, “Abso(fu**ing)lutely Glen, it’s a beautiful message”, “Deadly so, I’ll tell you about the rest some other time”.
Me thinking, not only can he sing fine yarns but he sees yarns too. There’s me thinking, he must love Bowie deeply. Me desperately wanting to know what the protagonist whispers to her icon. Me reckoning that I should never ask. Bowie, the best kind of teacher. He was the one who cared to treat his audience as individuals. He never celebrated ego but insisted that we each find ours, and laugh at it. In many guises he gave us theatrical modern myths and warnings for an era of intense change and social challenges. He took the time to encourage us to all play to our unique strengths. That we all dress how we want. Dance on the street when we want. Dance like nobody is watching. I had other teachers growing up but it was obvious to me that Bowie was a hero, a hero to Glen and a hero to everyone because he so effortlessly reminded us all that we are NO different.
Eternity has already ended for you David. The universe has played out. All the suns, planets and galaxies have lived their course. There you are in death beyond the stars and beyond time. We will always keep you with us here, on our headphones and in our hearts but strangely everyone who lives and who will ever live, has also travelled to that place with you, the very instant you died.
Myles O'Reilly's Arbutus Yarns 2010 - 2020 
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