Turn and Face the Strange

I know I said I'd write every week in 2016, but tech week for Crazy for You swamped me, it's my fault, but I'll keep weekly from here on out.

So David Bowie died.

I'm actually really saddened by this, he was the bisexual icon, or at least he was mine. He was who I aspired to be. He was everything, talented, confident, fashionable, brilliant in all aspects. If I could make half of the cultural impact that Bowie did I'll consider myself a success. I also kinda want someone to help me do a photoshoot with the Ziggy Stardust lightning bolt on my face and whatnot but I don't even know who to ask. What is hardest about this is the forced passage of time, I never once stopped to think about what it would be like if David Bowie died, I never really thought he would. But I'm sitting here with Life on Mars playing and I'm thinking how he'll never sing it again. Life on Mars was my first real Bowie song, that was when I really started to be a fan. Like before that I knew three or four David Bowie songs (because of my father, who gave me a bowie cassette tape when I was younger that I can't find anywhere), but Life on Mars really solidified him as an entity in my life. And to be truthful I'm choked up right now thinking about it. It was either 7th or 8th grade when I first heard the song, and it really was life changing, it blew my god damned pubescent mind. This man, David Bowie was suddenly a real idea. I guess his passing really solidified him in my life truthfully, I've always been a huge Bowie fan, but his passing is what really made him a permanent fixture in my cultural world view. I'd like to thank the swirling stardust that now is David Bowie, thank you, for everything. You really were an icon to me. And for giving me the courage to be able to come out. You really are someone to aspire to be. Maybe someday I'll dress as well as you, though never sing as well. Godspeed, Major Tom.

I guess the theme of this post is the passage of time. Yesterday wrapped the first last show I'll be doing. And really it's the last guaranteed role I'll have in Running to Places, and it was an honor. It really was, first off, I love Gershwin, so much, and second, everyone on the cast, crew, and production team was an absolute pleasure to work with and it might be the most talented and accomplished group of people I've ever had the pleasure to be around. Thank you all for making possibly my last show my best. I love you all.

Photo Credit to George Cannon

Caitlin pointed out to me earlier this week that this was my last show performing in the State Theater, which for the record is both my favorite concert venue and also my favorite place to perform. And I'll never be there as a performer again.

At this revelation I promptly had an existential crisis.

I'm getting older. A freshman called me irrelevant, the younger kids don't get the references to the things I say, there are kids I go to school with born after 9/11. I don't know what the honest to got hell "The Dab" is. Like I leave in six months, less than 200 days. Newfield will forget me, Ithaca will too. It's so weird to think about. These places I've spent so much time and energy being in and trying to effect as much as I can, soon I'll be nothing more than some pictures and a few scattered stories to them. I'll be remembered for my prolific and embarrassingly high number of ex girlfriends and my many trombone related incidents. I'll be off in god knows where doing god knows what. There's a line in the song Nice Work if You Can Get it "The man who only lives for fame, there's no guarantee that time wont forget his name." And I guess that's true, I have no guarantee that next year anyone will give two shits whether or not I make appearances in Tompkins County, and I cant judge my self worth in those people. I need to take stock in myself, I need to base more of my self worth on myself and my accomplishments, and not on the reactions of others. Because not everyone is going to love everything I do. Not everyone is going to be satisfied with every blog post, every haircut I get, every shirt I wear, anything I do. But I need to do things based more on how I feel, not on others. Time is a bitch, and the longer I spend fighting its passage the further behind I will fall. And so I vow this, I will be more confident, I'll be more expressive and passionate. I'll do more new things, I'll try new foods and wear new clothes. I will not imprison myself in the minds of others. Those bars cannot contain me any longer. 

There is a song in Fame , titled, Think of Meryl Streep. Maybe it's time I thought of David Bowie.

I have missed a lot because of my fear. My fear of what my friends would say, of what my parents would say, what the general public would say, but those days are over. I am more than their perception of me. I am Bailey S. Fox, writer, actor, musician, activist, bisexual, adventurer, and so many things. I am done being trapped by my fear of others.

I have heart-shaped sunglasses, I have a portrait of myself on the wall, I have a stuffed tiger named Hobbes, I have a cross stitch reading Bitches Ain't Shit I can do whatever I want, I can be whatever I want. It is time to let go of my insecurity. I have done so much living with it, without it, I'm unstoppable.

Thank you to all of you who every day lift me up and give me the opportunity to be so much more than I am. There are more of you than I could ever hope to thank. I love you all so much.

I'm not a prophet or a stone age man, I'm just a mortal with the potential of a Superman.

                                                                                                                                 -David Bowie

Thank you all for reading.

Godspeed

<3

Bailey S. Fox