pennies dropped

it was almost half past ten. in half an hour my allocated timeslot at the exhibition would start, and i was sat on a bench in the yard next to the church of the Martini tower, which protruded high above my head. the sun was shining, and although i was feeling great, these past few days in Goningen {town in the north of Holland}, i sank into some sad pondering. i felt alone, lonely. even though i was very happy to be in Groningen, and keen to make this kind of trip more often, intensely enjoying all that i saw and heard and felt and thought, and it kind of took me back to a time before ex, when i used to go away on short trips fairly often, somehow this loneliness kind of took over. there is nobody to go back to whom i can share my intense feelings with, when i go home... no one that really gets what i feel... why this is all so important to me... what am i to do? i asked in the general direction of the tower, where birds flew and the sun shone like crazy. please give me a sign... a small group of teenagers walked past with sausage rolls and fizzy drinks, and i got up from my bench, gearing up to walk along the alley underneath some lovely old houses that were alongside the offices of Groningen Province, carrying on my walk towards the Groninger Museum. the church bells {which sometimes play a tune} started chiming, and it took a few seconds before i made out the song that was played - China Girl... the church bells of the Martini tower were playing David Bowie!! i started to cry. thank you God, i thought.
i must go to Bowie...


Space Oddity was released in the same month i was born. which means not a lot. my mother was more bothered by the fact that i insisted on entering the world on the day of the moon landing {i always had pretty great timing} and my folks weren't very impressed with that strange geezer from England. even less so when he became Ziggy Stardust. the fact that David Bowie actually had a great deal to say to me didn't dawn on me until after he passed away. why then? why not when he was still around, doing his things? why has it only now dawned on me that he has always been there for me. for lonely types like me, the weird ones who had a hard time dealing with the world around them, for those who thought that they were alone... many before me recognised this in him, found an ally , someone who became a kind of friend, someone who was on their side. whether they had trouble working out their gender, or sexuality, didn't feel understood, by their classmates, their colleagues, or their families. who felt alien in the world around them. a world where everyone seems to get the rules, apart from them.

the exhibition in the Groninger Museum turned out to be the revelation i never expected. i'd hoped to find a glorious collection of costumes and suits, sheets from his note books, pictures, stuff that's never been shown before, notions of general attitudes at the time, contexts within etc. which would give me an inclination of the man and his processes, and that's what i got. the costumes alone would've been fantastic {coming eye to eye with the pierrot costume he wore in the clip for Ashes to Ashes touched me deeply... i loved to be within touching distance of the slashed Union Jack frock coat, used on the cover of an album he released in 1997... the strange, beautiful coat he wore for his 50th birthday... all those wonderful incredibly elegant looking suits that were so unmistakably his, and his only...}, but the combination of everything i witnessed and heard and saw, and more importantly: felt, deep down, made me not want to leave... right at the end was the Live Shows part {fairly important to who he was} where some oldies were sitting on comfortable looking soft benches, enjoying the music {played at concert levels}. i decided to join them, and watched him perform Rebel Rebel, on a gigantic screen {behind which were some more suits on display}, and  The Jean Genie. and Rock and Roll Suicide. and very slowly i felt my composure wane... "Oh no love, You're not alone..." he sang. just for me... "You're wonderful...". along with the live-sized wink and smile i remembered from Starman near the beginning, the timid clown from Ashes to Ashes, the intensely beautiful  Life on Mars... as i felt myself break down, it suddenly dawned on me what it was...

You're not Alone...
i never am really alone... 
if i have my true self, am at peace with who it is that i really am, love myself...
we all have so many different versions of ourselves that can be explored, that may be highlighted {even just to ourselves...}. we are so much more that what we grow up believing about ourselves, we are so much more than black or white, the clothes we wear, the people we hang out with... we are never really alone... we are always with and from ourselves, and those who 'belong' to us, or we belong to will find us, as long as we really are who we Really Are...
just like David Bowie came onto my path, again... 
a posthumous soul mate...
you're not alone... you have him too...
thank you David Bowie... 


2 comments:

Charlotte said...

Beautiful—I love this! You make me believe loneliness is a very strange, kind of uncomfortable gift that nevertheless helps us find a way to to befriend ourselves.

Daan said...

thanx for your reaction!
i guess i've had to learn to accept that it's part of what makes me who i am... not always easy but not the scary unease i'd felt or many years either... thanx to Mr Jones... ;-)