Goodbye, Whitney

I am writing this through angry tears.

Whitney Houston is dead, leaving a hole in the world.

The tears are natural–hers was perhaps the purest, most unique voice of a generation, a powerful, soaring, free sound that could lift you to the clouds. When she sang, she sang directly to your heart, creating an intimate connection, a hypnotic cocoon that sealed out personal troubles for a while. Her range was tremendous, her tone perfection, her control effortless. Her Black soul was unquestionable, yet she touched peoplea across cultures, spoke to anyone who understood and felt the power of music.

My anger comes from the waste–the erosion of her voice and final death through drug additction and poor life choices. I used to–still do–long for that vocal quality, that ability to pull music from a bottomless well of purity and emotion. That a person could possess that gift and waste it is unfationable to me.

But, as I have learned so often in my life, one never knows what is in another’s heart or home. I don’t know the demons that drove her to drugs, don’t understand how she came to live such a tumultuous personal life. The operant words here are “I don’t know.” All I can say now is I hope she is at peace, and say I will mourn that gentle touch, that soul-soothing sound.

I am sad and angry.

And bereft.

No Comments

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a comment

WordPress Themes | admin