The irreverent Gidget Gein (aka Bradley Anne Stewart), artist, designer, musician, man about town (and a founding member of Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids) died last night of an apparent drug overdose. The nature of his personality and his sense of the macabre initially had internet denizens doubting the truth of the rumours, but several calls made to the LA coroner's office confirmed the worst.
Gein had just signed a book deal to release his collection of stories written about his time as a 'bag boy' collecting the dead in Florida. He played a show with his new band at the House of Blues in LA on the 2nd and was preparing for his first solo show at La Luz de Jesus gallery - something he'd been hoping to land since his introduction to the gallery shortly after his move to Los Angeles.
Friend Lenora Claire stated that she would do whatever she could to make sure that the show, scheduled for February, goes ahead as planned.
No plans have yet been announced for memorial services. Gein was 39.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gidget_Gein for sketchy biographical info
http://myspace.com/gidgetgein for the real deal
There's a painting of his leaning against my wall as I type this, and a couple of his shirts hanging in my wardrobe. We'd spoken about a possible gallery show in London which never materialised. We weren't bffls, but I checked in on him often, and had a profound respect for his absolute refusal to be anything but himself, even at the price of "easy" fame and fortune. I simultaneously hope it was a mistake, and hope that it wasn't, so at least he had the choice.
This has triggered a tsunami of emotion in my circle of friends for reasons I won't go into here. Because we all seem to have a particular outlook on death and what happens after which does not often lend itself to sadness, we are indulging in the selfishness of missing his presence and regretting not saying whatever it is we should have said before he went.
Safe passage.
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