No Greater Love

A tribute to Amy Winehouse.

When a talent who's young and promising dies, you just feel really really sad. Sadder than you feel about a distant relative or someone who's had their lives or when a futile relationship ends, because it means you've lost an uncountable number of what might have been, what beautiful things you had been expecting.

To add to the poignance, when you look back in their lives you see that there're really no such things as wrong or bad deeds, because the transcendent and eternal beauty that they are justifies everything.

Then gradually you become grateful that such greats of the arts had graced the time you live in. 

Life only comes in two categories - the beautiful and the plebeian, and it's hard to be the latter when there are true artists.

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