Posted by: Artsy Squibbles | July 11, 2006

Irony? Syd Barret. Kismet?

I just finished reading about Roger “Syd” Barrett leaving the game.

A month ago I didn’t know who he was. But over the last few weeks, initially because of a copyright requirement for a song that I wanted to use with my art, I searched and found a life and story. I watched a slew of Pink Floyd you tube videos. Some of these were interviews with functioning band members and others were dedicated to Syd with a great deal of love.

I think what hit me at the time was how much Syd and I are alike.

It wasn’t the irony that the pictures I drew looked so much like him. That is just my artistic opinion based on two photos. It’s that we think in similar ways. This is a frightening thing when it comes down to it. And so I learn.

I have spent more time destroying things in my life, in my work, in all of my relationships, including my family than I have in building. How much did he destroy over the years. How much insanity was there from birth? How much insanity was inescapable trouble created by his choices? While my issues may be different than Syd’s, or the reasons for the emotional difficulties he and I have struggled with…the effect is still as stringent and dire as if these were the same. So I live in a constant up and down of rebuilding.

Not only is this inefficient but a serious problem that does not bode well when it comes to completing a task. I don’t care if it’s fear based or not. I don’t care if my thinking says it’s okay to destroy something because it’s mine. The fact that it is being destroyed sets a bad example for others. How’s that for truth. How’s that for the reason that my offspring believes that she can destroy my belongings when she is hurting and striking out.

Why am I writing this? Because somewhere there is another person losing control and that person needs love and understanding. If my point of view opens somebody’s mind for a brief moment to the hope that there is light to be found in the darkness, that there is strength for the weak, and food for the hungry…then maybe this is good that I am here. Now.

If by writing this someone comes to me and says I am a fool then I must have hit a chord. If by writing this someone comes to me and says we know someone like this. Then I have opened a door.

So Syd. Thank you. For opening a door. I just wish you hadn’t been required to go through all the pain you did. I’ll try and do right by this.

To the reader…Do not think that this is anything less than my gratitude for his existence. My tears flow freely at his loss.

I feel I know him well. Although I shouldn’t.

The thoughts that kept me searching the internet for information was my belief that I was somehow connected to Syd, that I was at that moment in time doing what I was doing for an unknown purpose. Kismet.

The silence seems appropriate now.

Goodnight Syd. See ya on the other side. Maybe Parnasuss.

From another Crazy Diamond.


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