Author’s note:
This piece took me awhile to complete, because I have been struggling with the devastating aftermath of Lucy’s death on my mind, body and every part of my existence. I was invited some time ago to write a reflection for a blog-journal, but upon submitting it on 4th July 2023 at 14:22 Singapore time, I was told by the editor (in the UK) that they will push back my article to end July, because the editor was too busy with other things. Coincidentally, they have just published another piece expressing almost identical thoughts, though written in a completely different style, of course. I am fine with that. The more people asking the same questions, the louder our voices become.

I have therefore decided to put mine here, unedited, with date and time reflecting the exact moment my piece was submitted via cyber-waves into the Great Unknown. Whether or not the journal’s editor decides to publish it in the near future, when and with what edits they deem fit, is immaterial to me. The Artist respects the autonomous entity of The Work, which will forge onwards along its own inexorable path, free from the tyranny of control and manipulation at the hands of humans preoccupied by and with human-centric glorification and maniacal demands of human ego. After some deeper contemplation, I feel that The Work, in this embodiment, is telling me that it would like to be launched from this Clement Space, an interstice created for me, for us both, by Lucy, because it is in its very purest essence an intimate tribute to Lucy, and to her and only her, do I really owe anything at all. When the Artist frees The Work, the Artist shall also be emancipated. I love you so, Lucy Like-a-Charm, thank you for teaching me such profound sensing.

Content warning: suicide and death is discussed in this article.