His death is haunting me. Since the moment I read of his demise, I have been wrestling with the grim details and vividly imagining his final moments. I do not follow celebrity news, but for all his fame, he seemed like a true man of the people. I have seen him around town at various theater events and he was dedicated to that world–one that most movie stars abandon entirely or dabble in only occasionally. He was immersed in the craft and pursued it completely; it is obvious he had a true passion for the work and his career is astounding. His performances are so strong and so varied and every one of them draw the viewer into whatever world he is creating. His characters are alive and inhabit him. He makes great Art.
And now He is dead.
Heroin scares me more than almost anything else. How the most respected actor and a nameless junkie can be on that same high stakes quest to inject poison is beyond my comprehension. It transcends life and it ends life.
I will miss watching him grow old and continue his incredible work, but he will always be an inspiration. We are lucky that he gave us so much before his final credits.