The Muse

I just found out that Edie Sedgwick died on my birthday. As if there isn't enough melancholy in my life. For those who do not know Edie Sedgwick, let me introduce her. She's the woman in the black & white pic. She was, to some extent and at a certain time, the muse of Andy Warhol. And for those who do not know who Mr Warhol is, go google. Anyway, he was the artist who painted the Marilyn Monroe pic I've pasted in this blog. His talent lies in his ability to turn mundane everyday things, e.g. a can of Campbell's soup into a fascinating work of art. Edie and Andy had a special relationship and she inspired him in many ways, simply because she was an inspiration in her own right. I think that despite all her drug addiction and hedonistic lifestyle, she was a great person to have "mused" Andy Warhol. She died on November 16, 1971 from a drug overdose. I don't know but sometimes I feel muses tend to end up living tragic lives, some to the extent of tragic deaths as well. Maybe that's the price for being a muse. They inspire people but in exchange for that, they somehow lose their own selves, because the "idea" of them has been taken by the person they inspired. So all that's left it just a supermassive black hole full of emptiness and despair.

So much for muses...