She still grows through cracks in the pavement. Each petal of her wholeness blossoming from a sensual vortex of dusted gold. Calling in her melissae to pollinate the Earth with a message of her return.
I was a child living with an unfathomable free spirit mother and was uncomfortable with Bowie’s colourful strangeness. Part elegant alien, part harlequin he looked like something out of a renaissance Alice in Wonderland court.