On the one hand it marks the day Ringo Starr was born 76 years ago. On the other hand, today marks 10 years since Syd Barrett died. Both of these men mean the absolute world to me, on so many different levels, and have inspired me throughout my life in various ways for many years.
I'm not generally one for drawing attention to a person's death. It's something I prefer to notice on my own and allow to pass, preferring to celebrate them on their birthday as death is something that affects me deeply (I will even purposefully avoid Tumblr on such days so I don't have to be reminded). But 10 years felt worth commemorating. I still remember when I found out all of those years ago. I'd only discovered Pink Floyd and Syd's solo work little less than a year before he died, and although he'd been publicly inactive for decades it naturally still hit me hard. It felt particularly unfair that he should die the day before my birthday, what a downer! He's always remained a living part of me though no matter how much time passes, and always will.
Syd was… you know, physically beautiful, witty, funny. The way he talked, the way he walked. I don’t want to make this sound like a love song, but he was much loved by pretty much everyone around him. - David Gilmour
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