No Fairy Tale

Michael was an artist. An artist in the truest sense of the word - a creator, a pioneer, a leader, a seeker and a teller of truth, and a dreamer of dreams, big dreams. He worked hard at creating his art, doing his utmost to perfect in human terms, what he saw, heard and felt in the already perfectness of inspired vision. For him it was more than creating, it was about recreating that vision. He tried to always be ready so he could capture the vision as it showed itself to him, a multi-dimensional picture in his head. Multi-dimensional is an apt description of Michael himself too, as his artistic expression included the fields of music, dance, performance tableau, film, writing, drawing and painting, not to mention landscape design. To describe Michael as a singer/songwriter or even a great entertainer fails to fully recognise his depth as an artist, so wide-ranging was his creativity.

Michael never stopped. He kept creating, kept setting new goals for himself. He continued to read, to learn, to grow, to work on his music and other art forms. He'd always wanted to explore other artistic endeavours. That is a sign of a true artist. He loved using different elements, blending them together in a certain way to form something new and beautiful and timeless. It was a magnificent obsession that drove him, nourished him and caused him to be fearless about forging his own path. He wanted to stretch himself, always; wanted to be challenged by his peers because he believed challenge provided the impetus to reach new heights; and when giddy heights were reached, he saw they were limitless and strove to climb even higher, urging others to do the same. He could have been perceived as demanding by his peers but he wasn't, because he demanded more of himself than anybody else. Others at work around his energy knew this and more, and accepted it for what it was, and they were, in turn, lifted and inspired by Michael.

As for the visions that inspired Michael, he believed they came to him from God. For him, this was the only explanation. He wouldn't, couldn't take credit for them. Sometimes a vision would come to him complete and all at once and he had to hurry to record it before it receded. At other times only a fragment came into view for just a moment before slipping quietly into the background of his consciousness, there to simmer for a while until it was ready to reveal more of itself. Sometimes a vision would come to him in a quiet moment when his gaze took in something wonderful, something simple and yet not so simple - a buttercup holding its face to the sun, a snowflake morphing into liquid as it wound its purposeful way down a window pane, or the innocence of a child's face with eyes that gleamed with laughter and mischief. And sometimes a vision came to him during a collaboration with others who were fully involved in the exciting, searing energy of creativity that could develop from the merging of ideas.

For Michael, everything and everyone around him had the potential to inspire, and to delight. The openness and preparedness that was necessary for inspired vision however, also brought with it extreme sensitivities to both joy and pain. That he would laugh or cry at the drop of a fedora is evidence of that. The spectrum of his experiences in life too followed the same extreme pattern and included the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, the scale of which most of us can only imagine.

Children inspired him. He loved their individuality, their freedom to be who they were, especially to be who they were around him, and he valued their honesty. In Michael's world these qualities were rare. Children who have not taken on adult judgements have no prejudices or preconceived notions, there is simply a natural curiosity and an acceptance of everything around them, and a joy in knowing the world is theirs. Their only need is unconditional love and tender nurturing. They live. They are happy. This is the ideal. Sadly, not all children are given the opportunity to experience this ideal, a right which should be theirs by birth. It isn't fair when there are children who are sick or suffering or aren't free to be all that they can be for whatever reason. Michael took the needs of these children to heart. It saddened him to see their potential impeded by circumstances over which they had no control. He wished them, in fact wished everyone could be a freedom child with no sickness or sadness or conflict in their lives; he wished them the freedom to be as happy as explorers in a new, painless, untarnished world, experiencing all the great things life has to offer, and he wished them the freedom to become all that they could be.

Michael himself had been a special child. People knew that about Michael, and sometimes they even told him that he was special, and as they said it, they would look deep into his eyes as if trying to capture some secret they couldn't quite fathom but a secret they knew was there within the depths of those eyes, eyes that seemed to lead directly to the soul within. Those looking to capture the secret invariably failed to find it, but at the same time they were captured, by something they instinctively felt but could not put a name to. Many times it was said there was an old soul within Michael, the child. How else was it possible to explain the depth of feeling he managed to convey when he was performing, though still a child?

Michael wanted to find out all he could, about everything. His thirst for knowledge was boundless. That trait seemed to come from his genes too, just as his gift for artistic expression did. Or was it just that he never lost a child's ability to question, to explore, to discover and to be excited by discovery? At any rate, it was definitely a quality that was present when he was a child, and a quality he never wanted to lose. And never did.

Books inspired him and he had thousands of them. He discovered very early on that reading took him on a journey to other worlds and other times, journeys that sometimes brought deep sadness and so many tears he could hardly see to continue reading, and at other times there were journeys that fired his imagination and sent his spirit soaring. Reading took him away from that place of loneliness too. Loneliness visited him often but it was something he eventually grew to accept and understand, yet it still made him sad for the child within him. The loneliness had grown, even as his destiny accompanied him through the years and, really, he had no choice but to learn to live with it. It wasn't that he didn't have people around him or people he could call on. No, it wasn't that. It was a loneliness born out of knowledge learned, and it invoked a sadness that came to him at an early time in his life, when, even then, it was too late to choose another destiny, even if he could have, even if he'd wanted to, and he didn't. There were times he didn't feel lonely though and he had the best of joys...

Michael had highest of highs, the best of joys. Maybe it was because he had a unique ability to see the infinite in the tiniest of things. This gift, and it truly was another gift, created a yearning to share with others a special insight and, by some indefinable method of transference, he could do that, and it astonished even the brightest of minds. Through music and performance too, he was able to make a connection. With millions. It was a form of magic he decided, and he loved magic. Even more amazing was that the magic was felt on both sides of that connection; it vibrated back and forth between open hearts and minds, from him in the spotlight, to the sea of faces upturned before him, becoming some kind of palpable electric current until there was no separateness between Michael and his audience, no giver or receiver on either side, just a oneness. It was a feeling of being totally connected on a large and perfect wavelength of flowing energy but at the same time, there was a glorious sense of freedom. It was as real as it was strong. Here there was no loneliness. For him, this was home. He would stay forever enveloped in that spiritual oneness if he could.

The lowest of lows. Michael was more aware than most that the world was not ideal. He knew about the world, both in a broad sense and in the world he was destined to be a part of, the world of entertainment. The smaller world of entertainment is a condensed and at the same time, a magnified version of the world at large - on one side the wonder of magic and mystery and, on the other, the crushing darkness of human nature - excesses purposefully craved and exploited to the limit; souls destroyed by evilness bent on destruction. Michael saw and experienced it all firsthand.

He felt the despair of others, especially the children's. Wherever he travelled in the world he sought to alleviate the despair, especially the children's. He gave them gifts, he gave his love and understanding. He couldn't turn away from ugly circumstances or pain and sorrow. He found that often a smile of hello or the gentle placement of his hand upon a tiny shoulder could comfort and bring a little light into a child's otherwise fearful world. He thought he was doing what he was meant to do and he was bound to do it. He did what he could and wanted to do more. There was no other choice. This, above all else, was his reason for being. The greatest crime was that they used this against him. He stood strong in the face of it because he knew his own heart. And he was not alone. Others saw his heart on the line and willed him their strength. They were there for him. They loved him more. Michael took comfort from them.

His plea once was that we walk a mile in his moccasins but try as we might, we would never be able to do that because Michael wore them on a path that was his alone. Only Michael knew the best of his joys and only Michael knew his deepest pain from the sharpest cuts.

Though his physical presence in this world is gone, Michael left us the legacy of his art, but beyond this, he also left a legacy of a special kind of magic connection, a connection that will never be broken because it involves hearts and souls. His and ours.

And there were his three special best of joys. He loved them unconditionally and he taught them as much as he could in the time he had with them. His love will always be theirs to hold in their hearts. He was, and will always be, their Dad.

For P, P & B, with love.

That is so beautiful! You described Michael perfectly ♥

Thank you so much Imagen for such beautiful thoughts and words about Michael
I wish all the ppl that never understood Michael could read your words and finally see the pure soul Michael had and that you perfectly described.

I agree 100%

A beautiful description of a beautiful human being.

Beautiful words, I agree.
Personally I think and i feel that Michael is more than an excelet singer, the best dancer, the great artist in the world for all the times.- For me Michael is part of my life. He was, is and will be in my heart for all my life. Nothing is the same after 25 june 2009.
Bigs hugs !

Michael was magic.