Farrah Fawcett also died today, and her life was a triumph - no more so than in the way she dealt with her vicious (and unfashionable) form of cancer. From every report she was a kind, thoughtful, genuinely grounded person who strove to have a real life (in spite of her fame) and also broke out of the typecasting of the beautiful bimbo babe. Her roles in Extremities, a play about a rape victim turning on her attacker, and in The Burning Bed - about a battered woman - forced the public (and her profession) to view her in a more complicated light. And her documentary about the ravages of cancer treatment was powerful and brave. Especially when she lost the most famous head of hair in America, and revealed her baldness to the world. She was always real. And she maintained a loving relationship with one man over almost 30 years. If you didn't count the Texas dad she adored.
I would like to note her passing and honor her life.
Posted by nyc at June 25, 2009 07:07 PMI'm too old for his art, but I mourn Micheal Jackson. I consider him innocent of the pedophile charges; I see him as a man who lost his childhood. He had no base, so he wasn't a complete man. His sexual innocence was an embarassment to him - surely his marriages were difficult at every moment.
I think he took refuge in what he saw as his innocence reflected.