He became a hero to some when he capitalized on his mortality in music and was avoided as a depressant by others. In the past hero's were the untouchables with (sometimes) supernatural abilities that their admirers could possibly never attain. This time the hero was someone who expressed his humaneness. His words penetrated me in a way that I couldn't articulate when I was young. I just knew that I had to listen. As I grew bits and pieces began to make sense and I eventually borrowed those lines to describe myself in journal entries many times. Thankfully, some of those similarities have become memories but still listening to Nirvana is an experience.
I was fascinated the first time I saw the last image of him that was captured. In the photograph a body laying motionless and all visage concealed beneath a table shook me. I don't know if I can describe the urge that rose within me. I felt that it was important to be attentive to his words. That faceless frame had a voice and I wanted to hear all that it had to say.This month many mourn his loss again but I'd like to celebrate the work in which a piece of him lives on.
