The loss of great artists...

There’s something that rings melancholy in the air when an artist dies. This isn’t to say that it’s not sad when others pass on, but my heart has a deeper pang when a creative soul dies. How much more work would they have shared with the world, making it a better place? How many more books written, films acted in, projects made by, paintings made by, if the artist’s time had not been cut short? I learned today that one of my favorite actors, Philip Seymour Hoffman, has apparently died of a drug overdose. What saddens me more is that this type of death could have been prevented. It wasn’t a deadly car crash, a heart attack, something that we can’t control. This was something in his control, and he lost his battle to it. And I also find regret. About a year ago, I had the opportunity to see him in a Broadway play. I opted to see something else instead. Now, I will never see him on Broadway again. Regret, indeed. No matter what demons are out there, a message to artists: keep going. Let your heart keep beating so you can continue your artistic pursuits. RIP.