Today, it will probably remain in my memory as one of the most bizarre, surreal and sad days of my life. I'm one of the many many fans that Bowie had. This morning I woke up had my coffee while reading the news and instantly the shock, disbelief and the tears, then I woke up my husband and told him the news while crying, and simultaneously the messages from friends and family and the irreversibility of the fact, coming in in the modern shape of tweets and facebook posts. Bowie had died, as if that was ever possible in our heads! He was an alien visiting, he was an icon, he was extraordinary and none of those move in the realms of mortality ever. Not knowing what to do with myself and my sadness, and since I live near Brixton by chance, fate or unconscious decisions, I've decided after I've dropped my son to school to go down to his mural to leave flowers, there were already some there, but also there was an eager press to interview me, as most of the fans were rushing
La feminista que hablaba de partos. La madre que hablaba de feminismo. La espectadora madre y feminista.