A soul has departed, yet memories linger on.
Back in my childhood, I was drawn to the music of Danny Chan and Beyond. I practically wore out my favourite DVD, Beyond 1991 Live concert. The melodies and lyrics spoke to me in a way that felt deeply personal.
As I got older and internet access became a norm, I decided to learn more about these artists I held in high regard. To my shock, I discovered that both Danny Chan and the lead singer of Beyond had passed away in the 1990s.
It was such an unexpected and sombre revelation. Despite the surprise, there was a strange allure to the idea of being drawn to singers who were no longer with us. It added a layer of mystery and a certain melancholic beauty to their music that resonated with me.
As I later moved overseas and delved into Western culture, I discovered the '27 Club,' primarily comprising well-known musicians, artists, actors, and other celebrities who passed away at the age of 27 including Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse.
Take Kurt Cobain as an example: the music of his band, Nirvana, once stirred up a rebellious and introspective spirit among young people. However, today, the enduring feelings of turmoil, sadness, and defiance are closely tied to the legacy left behind by Kurt Cobain's untimely departure.
While exploring a Nirvana museum in Seattle, being surrounded by Kurt's guitars and hearing the iconic Smells Like Teen Spirit triggered intense emotions within me. Watching the documentary Cobain: Montage of Heck also made me sad because I sensed his strong struggle with the aspect of success that needed him to share his private life with the public. His crazy fans, fueled by curiosity, found satisfaction in uncovering aspects of Kurt's life that he might have wished to shield from public scrutiny.
On a Christmas Eve, Courtney Love, the widow of Kurt, posted a family photo on social media, pouring out their enduring and profound love. This moment underscores how Kurt Cobain, a treasured legend, has left an irreplaceable void not just in the hearts of his family but also in the souls of countless fans worldwide.
On a rainy day, Sparklehorse's 'Morning Hollow,' led by the late Mark Linkous, strikes a chord. Its notes mirror the melancholy of raindrops, shaping a distinct and contemplative atmosphere. Mark, who passed away in 2010, penned lyrics that vividly portray the quietude and serenity of mornings. His words transport me to either mysterious, shadowy landscapes or tranquil, rural vistas, providing a genuinely distinct listening experience.
During my teenage years, I became fixated on Nick Cave when I first encountered 'Where The Wild Roses Grow' and its accompanying music video. His poetic lyrics, tumultuous history, and unconventional persona resonate with me on multiple levels.
During that period, I was captivated by his famous quote, "All beauty must die," and the Buddhist concept of "impermanence," as understood within my limited grasp. I held the belief that everything, ourselves and life included, is fleeting. As a result, I embraced the viewpoint that nothing maintains enduring importance since everything would ultimately vanish into obscurity.
As the years slipped away, Nick Cave appeared to have undergone a healing process, evolving from a musician to a husband and father. He even established an online platform to lend an ear to others' pain. In tandem, my own understanding of the concept of "impermanence" deepened. While acknowledging that nothing is everlasting, I came to appreciate that the very act of existence holds immeasurable value in our world.
Watching This Much I Know To Be True, a documentary that captures behind-the-scenes of Nick Cave and Warren Ellis making their last two studio albums (Ghosteen and Carnage), evokes a mix of joy and tears. The music, songs, and stage visuals are sensational, and the conversations and interviews with Nick and Warren prompt deep reflections on how we perceive our world. It becomes evident that once we open ourselves up and establish connections with others and the world around us, everything starts to fall into place.
I once believed that suicide was the ultimate destination for an artist. However, delving deeper into the world of creativity revealed a different truth. Artists like Frida Kahlo and Ai Weiwei defy the notion that brilliance is confined to the afterlife. Kahlo's vibrant spirit transformed pain into beauty, while Weiwei's activism and artistry prove that artists are catalysts for change.
In the journey of creating art, Leonard Cohen's words ring true: "There's a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." Despite the challenges we face, let this be a rallying call for artists to persist. Don't burn out in a single blaze; instead, keep the flame alive. Live to the fullest, embracing each moment with creativity and resilience.
Camilla you write deep felt and moving prose buy yet you sound like an old soul poet; very knowledgeable and full of experience. Your writing dazzles as always, have a tranquil day :)