My Words. Your Eyes. Our Moment.

So if you’re gonna judge then prolly just don’t read. Because that just means you don’t and can’t get it.

I remember the day Heath Ledger died. My mom called me to ask if I was okay. Yeah that call was as weird to me then as it sounds to you now. I never really talked about him excessively or anything. I think maybe my mom just senses that I can get deeply attached to certain artists. I think it would be easy to see why anyone could have an attachment to Mr. Ledger.

It was a little more than three years ago and I continue to find myself more and more heartbroken whenever I see his face or just think about him. My artistic soul is somehow tied to Heath Ledger. He has always been a great inspiration to me, and that inspiration will live on.

The whole thing is just a complete tragedy. Heath was an amazing artist and my heart breaks for his family and friends but my soul envies those who were so blessed to have known him.

He seemed like such a fascinating mind.

I promise not to waste the inspiration I have gained and have still to gain from Heath Ledger and other great artists.

But I’ve been kind of sad lately. It’s just been on my mind.