My friend Aprilynne Pike said it far better in this post than I ever could.
I have tried. I have sat here now for an hour trying to type something beautiful and meaningful on this topic, and for the life of me I just can't find the right words.
That is a terrible thing for an aspiring writer to admit, I know, but if I am nothing else I am least honest about my own limitations. Which is I guess what was so wonderful about the three who have recently passed. Did they know their limitations? Hell, did they even have any limitations?
I don't know. And neither does anyone who listened to Pavarotti or read l'Engle or Jordan. Because if they did have limitations, they didn't show. The talent, the skill with which they performed their respective crafts left little room in the minds of those who enjoyed them that there was nothing these three people could not do.
I can't imagine what it must be like to be that talented, that brilliant. Alas...
In my mind I see this as a move toward sunset, and now the world is just a little darker for their passing.
Rest In Peace Robert Jordan, Madeleine l'Engle, and Luciano Pavarotti. You may be gone, but your work will remain here, among those mere mortals you inspired, your gifts to antiquity.
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1 comment:
It really has been weighing on my mind too. I wouldn't have thought, even after writing my blog entry, that the little cloud of sadness would still be so thick, but it truly is, even for these people I never met, never knew, but who managed to touch my life anyway. How amazing it would be to be able to touch people's lives like that. I can only imagine.
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