Stardust Sprinkles

I felt compelled to write this article after I heard in the news that David Bowie had been voted number 1 in the Sky Arts 50 most Popular Artists of the last 50 years.

Great choice IMO.

Back when I discovered him in the late 90’s his unique style (both in music and fashion) was intriuging to me. Unlike 3-year-old me asking mum “Is Boy George a boy or a girl, mum?”, I was no longer confused by a person expressing their creativity this way. He didn’t just unlock my mind to 70’s music, he unlocked my fashion sense and an internal freedom to creatively express who I am.

There were 3 key moments where David Bowie formed a significant, memorable part of my existence. I’m almost sad he’ll never know the positive effect his songs, his style and his fame had on my brain.

Meeting Ziggy

When I heard ‘Space Oddity’ for the first time my ears became sharper than steak knives. It was captivating, Here was a man born only a couple of years after my own parents yet somehow managing to be incredibly cool and undeniably original. I wanted to gorge on this music and learn every word faster than my brain could think.

No mean feat.

The song itself contained lyrics I couldn’t wrap my head around, but it didn’t matter at all. I’d spent the last 5 years learning eveything in the Top 40 from Shaggy to The Spice Girls. I knew those lyrics by heart, along with their meaning. But Bowie introduced me to something new, something exciting, expressive, foreward-thinking and edgy. I didn’t know any other Bowie fans yet, but I’d agreed internally I was right to love everything he stood for, second opinions didn’t matter.

I’d just moved into my own place and found my feet as a fully-fledged adult at 18 years old. David Bowie provided the soundtrack to that era and the songs added noise and lyrical colour. The bright outfits, thunderbolts, platform shoes and tomato-red hair seeped back into society as fashion started to go around in its first circle. It was the 90’s and the 70’s were coming back.

Like so many music and fashion junkies, I was hooked quickly. I wore the clothes, got the albums, watched on as each song took 30 minutes to transfer to my shitty MP3 player and then I sat on the grass in the dappled shade of a memorial garden with my eyes closed, ready to feel alone with his cryptic messages once again.

“Planet earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do.”.

I’m writing this in 35 degree heat. We’re officially in the middle of the hottest summer on record and I watch on in horror as newsreaders tell us every day that our tiny chunk of earth is being scorched like an ant under a microscope.

Bowie knew where we were heading and how redundant we would all feel. Our inability to reverse the damage to our planetary home feels like we’ve taken it for granted and only realised it too late. There’s nothing I can do, there’s nothing we can do.

These were clever words, ahead of their time and intriguing . Lines about ‘the girl with the mousey hair” and “from Ibiza to the Norfolk Broads.”. He was a wordsmith alright, with lyrical puzzles that hooked me in time after time.

For all these reasons, David Bowie was the first singing artist I liked on my own terms. This had nothing to do with impressing friends, following my parents preferences or finding common ground with boys. No, no. This was music and style that I’d discovered on my own, forming opinions on his best to worst lines as I uncovered the glam rock treasure. I was no longer a follower of fashion only interested in liking Westlife or watching Friends – I’d been there already. I was an honest fan of someone I admired for creative reasons.

I was Steph, I was 18 and I loved Ziggy Stardust!

Bowie and the Noughties

He never left my life. I didn’t suddenly abandon my adulation for his portfolio of songs or dislike his opinions and ideals. I guess I just moved on to the next thing.

Destinys child, Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, Pink and many other female solo artists were occupying the vacant space in my ears now. Big Brother and pointless relationships filled the remaining time. I’d reverted back to being a follower, and the media and work friends steered me towards what was ‘wicked’ and away from what was ‘lame’. Justin Timberlake came and went, crying me a river and offering to ‘Rock my body’ as he went by (I wish).

In 2009, however, my personal life took a dramatic turn. My mum developing aggressive cancer convinced me that free time and having fun was no longer a priority. Being with her every weekend was all I cared about. Mowing her lawn, making breakfast, having a chat…anything to be more involved and show my love and support.

I made the decision to start getting the train straight from work on a Friday evening so I could be with her for a few days before coming home. She lived about 150 miles away.

After a couple of weeks I’d spent more than 10 hours sitting on the bumpy, bone-shattering locomotive. It gave me nothing but time to think and be uncomfortable. I needed something to do – I guess it would have been a coping strategy if I were deploying it today. The answer was obvious…dust off my iPod (yes, technology had moved on!) and fill it with some banging tunes 🤣

Fortunately my library of old was still sitting there waiting to be enjoyed again. Binging my musical taste buds on the encyclopaedia in front of me, I downloaded 60 odd albums to the player. Hidden amongst them all was ‘Best of Bowie’.

As I sank into my concrete train chair once again, I put the earphones in before we left the station. I enjoyed everything I’d downloaded – little flashbacks of past happy times popped up over and over. But after a few albums were gone the low, slow, feint sound of an acoustic guitar became quietly audible.

“Ground control to Major Tom .”.

My brain melted like butter, He was back and it felt like no time had passed at all.

The 3 hour commute to my mum flew by for the first time since I started the regular journey, and music became a permanent part of the picture.

“And the stars look very different today.”.

They truly did. ‘Stars’ formed part of the name of one of my mums favourite songs, and it’s the reason I use them so often in my artwork. I’d listen to Ziggys words on repeat, in the dimly lit train, as the stars shimmered through the stained carriage window.

Once again I was escaping, this time for darker reasons. I simply didn’t want to dwell on my mums incoming pain, treatment and upset for 2 hours on my own.

“For here, am I sitting in a tin can?”.

In those moments, as my skeleton shook, my headache grew, and my weak coffee fell across my lap, I truly was.

Very merry Ziggy

I can’t talk about this man without mentioning the most important Christmas song in my catalogue. An unlikely collaboration between two absolute singing power-houses that created a spine-tingling song with an incredibly important message.

“Peace on earth, can it be? Years from now, perhaps we’ll see.”.

I read these simple, short sentences now and realise deeply that the peace these guys sang for is probably further away now than ever.

Bing Crosby and Bowie sang a duet of ‘Little Drummer Boy’ with pin prick precision. An almost a capella ballad that still gives me goose bumps every festive season.

Totally outside of Bowies expected comfort zone, but 30 years on it’s still as important as it was at the time.

Incredible instincts.

Goodbye Ziggy

Here in the UK, 2016 is remembered as the year all the high-profile celebrities suddenly died.

Before we’d even heard the phrases ‘pandemic’ or ‘covid-19’, 2016 was waiting to do the same evil work, causing waves of grief as each new death was announced. Terry Wogan, Caroline Aherne, Robin Williams, George Michael, Prince, Alan Rickman, Muhammad Ali and yes, sadly, David Bowie too.

In the end David Bowie was named most popular recording artist of the year. His records were downloaded in their droves, with estimates of 1.6million throughout the year after he passed away in January.

Yes, I was amongst the droves.

It’s a real shame that sometimes you only seem to find greatness in tragedy. Without my mum dying I wouldn’t have left my husband and now be graced with a lovely, caring partner along with our confident, beautiful daughter and caring, all-seeing, all-knowing dog. I wouldn’t have lost weight. I wouldn’t be writing this blog.

On the flip side, I’d probably be a bit more stable mentally though.

Bowie’s death triggered his 3rd or 4th resurgence into the pop scene, and once again he was dominating, passing huge artists of the time (such as Adele and Taylor Swift) as he climbed up the popularity ladder once more.

Swings and roundabouts,

Listening to the same ‘Best of Bowie’ album was a little cathartic, but also upsetting. Those late night train journeys, desperately trying to ignore the smell of piss coming from the toilet, scrunched in the corner of a table seat whilst keeping an iron grip around my belongings, I remembered the deep sorrow and worry I’d been pushing out for so long, and how I still carry it with me today.

“Now she walks through her sunken dream.”.

It’s sad to remember lyrics this way and to feel the positive relationship I had with these songs 20 years ago is lost. But my desire to hear them on the train was more important than any attachment theory (something I didn’t understand anyway). I now have good and bad memories stuck in between words I used to marvel over.

In conclusion…

David Bowie isn’t just the Sky Arts most popular artist, he’s one of mine too. The way his music punctures chapters of my life is something I find really interesting today. I can recall hundreds of other songs by other artists, all with memories or events from the past attached to them (good and bad), but I can’t think of many others that produce the flashbacks of both the best and the worst times.

That’s a testament to the way he wrote and performed his songs. When you were happy you wanted to hear him, when you were sad you wanted to get lost with him.

His legacy consists of many things, but to me he’ll always be the artist who popped my glam rock cherry and opened my mind to emotional listening.

The picture

Okay, so obviously I needed to create something in homage to Bowie, and I’ve been developing my own characters to use on my various artwork platforms. I can’t think of a name for him yet, but I now draw this bunny regularly for my #dtiys challenges amongst other things. If you have any name ideas for him then please let me know!

This is my creative tribute to the man who helped me see how wild, inspiring and dumbfounding creativity is supposed to be.

Thank you Ziggy. Thank you David.

I’m off to stop my dog and clowns from bounding at Rule Britannia 😉