The Hunt for Beau Continues
“July 22, 2007 — Police in helicopters scanned the waters off Rockaway Beach yesterday in search of a distraught artist who wandered into the ocean – presumably to his death – a week after his girlfriend committed suicide in their apartment.
Jeremy Blake, 35, was last seen Tuesday evening making his way into the pounding surf – leaving behind a handwritten note on top of a pile of clothing, police sources said.
In the short note, Blake said he was “despondent” over the July 10 pill-overdose death of his filmmaker girlfriend, Theresa Duncan, 40, at their East Village apartment. He wrote that he couldn’t imagine living without her by his side.”
Continue this article: NYPost–”Art-to-Art-Grief”
Now, Gilding didn’t know her idol and her beau personally, but does it strike any of you a little odd that someone about to commit suicide because of the loss of their soul mate would write a suicide note saying he was “despondent” over her suicide? And to kill himself in such a cliche manner, at that. Gilding says, there is just something not right here. Or perhaps Gilding is wistfully hoping that this is all an elaborate, if cliche, hoax the brilliant duo are putting on for some other grand design and one day they will let us all in on the hilarity of it. Apparently I’m not the only one who thinks there’s something a little wrong here, either. According to Blake Robin, a friend of the couple, said he had a hard time imagining the two committing suicide.
“Suicide would never be on their to-do list,” he said. “The narrative of the wallet and the clothes under the boardwalk, it’s like somebody writing a cliché, it’s not them.
momwow said,
July 29, 2007 at 10:21 pm
As individuals, we desire recognition. We are each unique, and want to shine in our own way. However, as performers, we require an audience. Without one, we may feel we do not exist, like the narcissist who breaks down if there’s no one there to reflect her image back to herself.
It is developmentally necessary to be seen when you are a child, to have your mother convey — through her words, tone of voice and facial expressions — that you are the most special person in the world. If you integrate this message well enough, you can survive adulthood, when, invariably, you often feel invisible or unacknowledged.
Unfortunately, few of us absorb our mother’s message 100%, because mothers are imperfect (or because we’ve got a nasty Saturn-Moon square in our horoscopes). Those moments when we crave recognition and don’t get it can lead to all manner of reactions, ranging from temper tantrums to indulgence in fantasies about being loved and adored.
Unless we feel confident in our soul purpose, we yearn for validation. And even if we know we’re on the right path, it feels good to be applauded, for this reassurance keeps us going when the going gets rough.
An antidote to reactivity is to not take the lack of an appreciative audience personally. We’re all pretty self-centered. I’ve heard numerous times that you shouldn’t worry too much about how you’re going to appear to others, because most people are too obsessed with themselves to notice you. In other words, we need detachment to divest ourselves from our incessant need for ego-stroking. Detachment doesn’t mean “I don’t care.” Rather, it means having a sense of perspective, when we can observe ourselves and witness our longing for approval. From this contemplative standpoint, we can notice our inner divas but not feel compelled to meet her demands.