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She hangs herself in front of me

Slips her dress like a flag to the floor

And hands in the sky

Surrenders it all…

-The Cure

Brittany Murphy was an amazing talent who brought such courage and conviction to her roles. The screen crackled and radiated with energy whenever she appeared; it is difficult to envision two great films, 8 Mile and Sin City, having the same intensity and passion without the commitment of her raging talent. I’m both saddened and appalled at her loss. So much of what we endure today is manufactured and glossy. Brittany was the genuine artefact, a gorgeous, celestial vision we should have been able to enjoy for decades more.

There will doubtless be recriminations and guilt. But you can’t stop a drug addict. It’s painful to acknowledge that fact, but it’s an eternal truth that eventually collides with and ruptures youthful idealism. I embrace and revel in the art Brittany created, and pass no judgement on her lifestyle. She chose to live her life in an increasingly drug fuelled haze and, as they say in Dublin, “what you abuse is gonna abuse you right back”. My life is littered with alcoholics and junkies and I’ve always noted two different kinds. One is the narcissist, the one who simply doesn’t care about others, the loathsome degenerate whose existence is a cancer for those around them (as I write that I can hear Michael Jackson’s infantile squealing). The other type, the ones I like and secretly admire, are gentle, artistic types who genuinely struggle to find a meaning and purpose while dwelling in this “light affliction”. Brittany was in the latter category and I believe her soul now rests in a kinder place. She’s in my prayers, but then, she’s been there for quite awhile…