Tales from a struggling writer, Detroit chick, and mother.
First Thoughts on Michael Jackson's Passing
I am glad that Michael, first crush, is gone. It was difficult to watch his pain, a pain so deep it caused addictions and self-mutilation. I'm wondering if we expect too much of artists. We're okay with their deep sense of empathy when they can express the sublime, but we mock them when they express the ugliness of the world, when they themselves do ugly things. I'm thinking that there's a lot of pain in life. I'm thinking how music reaffirms what's good.