Goddess in Bowie’s Blackstar

Goddess in Bowie’s Blackstar,  by RM Allen,  2016,  NHgoddess.com

bowie blackstarThe sudden news of Bowie’s death made me grateful for the many contributions of the chameleon Bowie that have been woven into the fabric of society since the 1970’s. He was a Brit, but he did not arrive with the British Invasion. He came from the stars. He was our “star-man” and he blew our minds. He put out fire with gasoline. He put on his red shoes and danced the blues.

They called him androgynous back then, a pioneer in living on what we now call the “non-binary spectrum.” Similarly, his forty years of music cannot be categorized, it also lives on a non-binary spectrum.

As a person, he was very well read and spoken and as a result his lyrics were always intellectually provocative. He was a humanitarian and a creative visionary. (He was an Aquarius with a moon in Leo.) As an artist, he was a rebellious game changer and he changed that game many times. He was so ahead of his time that we still can’t even keep up. To wit: now he gives us Blackstar, a modern masterpiece on death, which has some folks very confused regarding the lyrics and imagery.

From a goddess perspective it is clear: it is the ritual and process of the star-man dying and going home. There are two deaths going on here; the icon and the human.  The music video shows the final minutes of the David Jones’ dying process; his clothes no longer fit, his body/temple/house is in decay, he lives solely in his attic/mind only accompanied by quivering death throes.

Far away his giant candle is all but burned out. Kali, the goddess of death and rebirth sends one of her avatars for David Bowie, star-man, whose body lies under an eclipsed orb. Same orb painted on his forehead back in his glam-rock days. The glittery glam-rock skull is brought as relic, to the temple on the hill in the villa of (w)omen. The women gather in sacred circle and perform ceremony as the skeleton rises to the cosmos.

Meanwhile, David Jones holds the Blackstar book of his life, given to him at birth, up to the heavens as signal that he has filled all the pages it is now time to return. (He does not know why he got issued the special Blackstar book, but he can tell you how he wrote in it.)  A light from above finally lands on the book, then his face. He is relieved to see that his signal has been received, his prayer answered. He is ready. Back in the attic, for the final time he recites the list of what he is and is not. He is only a fallen angel who spoke the truth to the world. A young girl passes by the door, she will be the new Blackstar. David’s rock, what he clings to now, (as does any dying person) are the eyes of the person closest to him. The beloved eyes at the bedside (his wife).

In the villa, the goddess and attendants get to work and create a devouring chaos reeking of cancerous tumors, which approaches three gyrating Jesus-like scarecrows in a dusky field. Body and spirit tussle in the elemental chaos. The relic skull is finally placed/seated on the back of a woman (this is how the Angolan Queen Nzinga found herself a seat when none was offered to her by a patriarchal society that sought to make her inferior). In the attic, David Jones crumples and falls to the ground.

Farewell David, society owes you a debt of gratitude for your tremendous musical and humanitarian contributions. Your black-star shone very brightly while you were here, opening our eyes to new things. Western society tends to focus on youth and shut death out, but you looked compassionately at death and gifted us with Blackstar. Thank you for this gift of art and death and love. Namaste

This is my humble interpretation. Watch it, and see what you see. The music is a new style called Jazz-Fusion or Jazztronic. The lyrics are as follows.

“Blackstar” David Bowie, 2015

In the villa of Ormen, in the villa of Ormen

Stands a solitary candle, ah-ah, ah-ah

In the centre of it all, in the centre of it all

Your eyes

On the day of execution, on the day of execution

Only women kneel and smile, ah-ah, ah-ah

At the centre of it all, at the centre of it all

Your eyes, your eyes

Ah-ah-ah

Ah-ah-ah

In the villa of Ormen, in the villa of Ormen

Stands a solitary candle, ah-ah, ah-ah

In the centre of it all, in the centre of it all

Your eyes

Ah-ah-ah

Something happened on the day he died

Spirit rose a metre and stepped aside

Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried

(I’m a blackstar, I’m a blackstar)

How many times does an angel fall?

How many people lie instead of talking tall?

He trod on sacred ground, he cried loud into the crowd

(I’m a blackstar, I’m a blackstar, I’m not a gangster)

I can’t answer why (I’m a blackstar)

Just go with me (I’m not a filmstar)

I’m-a take you home (I’m a blackstar)

Take your passport and shoes (I’m not a popstar)

And your sedatives, boo (I’m a blackstar)

You’re a flash in the pan (I’m not a marvel star)

I’m the great I am (I’m a blackstar)

I’m a blackstar, way up, oh honey, I’ve got game

I see right so white, so open-heart it’s pain

I want eagles in my daydreams, diamonds in my eyes

(I’m a blackstar, I’m a blackstar)

Something happened on the day he died

Spirit rose a metre and stepped aside

Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried

(I’m a blackstar, I’m a star star, I’m a blackstar)

I can’t answer why (I’m not a gangster)

But I can tell you how (I’m not a flam star)

We were born upside-down (I’m a star star)

Born the wrong way ‘round (I’m not a white star)

(I’m a blackstar, I’m not a gangster

I’m a blackstar, I’m a blackstar

I’m not a pornstar, I’m not a wandering star

I’m a blackstar, I’m a blackstar)

In the villa of Ormen stands a solitary candle

Ah-ah, ah-ah

At the centre of it all, your eyes

On the day of execution, only women kneel and smile

Ah-ah, ah-ah

At the centre of it all, your eyes, your eyes

Ah-ah-ah

Published by nhgoddess

RM Allen is the author of The New Hampshire Goddess Chronicles series, small but effective books on the intersection of spirituality & environmentalism. She continues the small but effective theme in her newest writing project: the Maryvonne Mystery series, which are about racism and redress. The first book released January 2020: Incident at Exeter Tavern.

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