Put on shoes to go and buy milk.
Walked to the corner shop on Hollywood Blvd.
Found a big crowd blocking the pavement.
Wondered what they were there for. Assumed it was some typical blockbuster movie publicity thing.
Paused to have a look.
RIP David Bowie; 1947 – 2016.
It’s funny; big crowds on Hollywood Blvd are nothing unusual. Every couple of days, I’ll need to skirt around a crush of people that are there for some kind of generic movie premiere, publicity stunt, interview, or other usually-purely-commerce-driven showbiz thing.
Even the star-tiled Walk of Fame itself often feels more like a cynical promotional tool than anything of substance. Obviously it’s a very different experience when you normally walk along it to buy groceries than to go on a celebrity tourist pilgrimage.
But somehow, for a man like David Bowie who featured the themes of stars and space so heavily in his life’s work, and managed to combined a sparkly exterior with a core of thoughtful humanity, the star felt like a stronger emblem than it might for most celebrities.
A little detail that escaped my notice at first in the image above; someone had scattered glitter dust all over the star tile. Somehow it felt appropriate.
I wouldn’t normally have a reason to write about his death, but then I came across the above scene on my morning milk run. It occurred to me that all the people who were deeply touched by Bowie’s life might appreciate knowing that his star on the ground is receiving just as much love as his stars in the sky.