Uploaded May 2018 | Updated September 2026, 9 hours ago

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Another artist died today
Not starving, per se,
But still empty, swollen, dry, and yearning

His pain was well known. It was there in his work
Thousands upon thousands heard his cries and felt a deep connection to an image they had never seen before, but felt anyway in their own lives.

Paintings of panic attacks.

His life was a beautiful disaster of public suffering. Sharing his agony with the world to be collected and shared by his followers.

A modern leper, worshiped for the pieces he was losing.

People around him took care of him. They did what they could to keep him safe.
But when what hurts you most is what people look to you to provide, you can't help but think: should I do what's right for me or right for them?

You stay up at night warring with yourself. Head against heart.

A midnight organ fight.

The struggles you have never leave you, and sometimes they take you over.
But he was not his problems.
He was a poet, a singer, a musician, a writer, a brother, a friend, a son, a lover, an ex, a person.

He was an artist. He was lost, and then he was found

Floating in the Forth.

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I am devastated. take care of yourselves, and take care of each other.