Guest contributor Shauna Adams writes a beautiful piece about the legendary poet, songwriter and artist Leonard Cohen (September 21, 1934 – November 7, 2016)
I have never revered celebrities. l pay no homage to them or even attention. I do however revere Writers, Artists, Philosophers and Thinkers, that have changed the way people think and feel about life through their art. In my opinion they have given something precious to whoever wants to partake.
They share their vision, insights, images and thoughts and in doing so bring comfort, inspiration, vision, and truth, to so many of us hopelessly thrashing in the dark and drowning in confusion, whilst trying so hard to make sense of life.
Leonard Cohen was one of these people. One of these visionaries able to make sense of the tragedy of life. Bring beauty into confusion and create pictures of an imaginary world where words are able to free you from the restraints of the world.
So many inane cliches abound around his work of “music to commit suicide to and music to die to”…for me his words and music were to live by..to thrive by…to make sense of the life we all spend our lives trying so hard to survive.
I feel so privileged that his music and his alchemy of words was to so inspire me in my own music and writing. I feel so privileged to have lived through the unfolding of his words throughout my life, and up until the end of his own. Honoured that he taught me so much through his art, and shared it so willingly amongst us, to either hate or love it. He taught me to see life and language as sacrosanct. Powerful and playful with the ability to create images so intense and so beautiful that the pictures would shine through the words like a film. A film in which I walked and lived, with a soundtrack that followed..his words..leading and guiding me through a maze of uncertainty with a light that shone so bright l no longer felt alone. Living with a Master reading to you as you grew into who you are. A gift given to a billion strangers with the choice to receive or reject.
I received his teachings, with open and grateful arms, his beautiful words, his fierce images, his intense wisdom, and carried them with me.
I fear now for the those beautiful words and those wonderful visions. Where will they come from. Where will those heavenly words be found now. The Master has died and his words have ended. They will no longer come fresh and new with ever renewing energy and life. There are so few to take his place, so few left and ready to inspire. I search frantically but they are not to be found. Now is an alien world of anger and hate, devoid of dreams and despairing of inspiration. We are troubled, we are undone, we are lost in the crowd, we are bereft of such enormous inspiration. It can no longer be seen or heard, no longer penetrate where “the light gets in” He left us. He said he was ready…said he was done…I mourn not only the loss of a great man and visionary but an art….where will l find the words now. We are left in the dark and now the light cannot get in…