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I am not alone when I admit to my David Bowie fixation. It began when I started seriously collecting and listening to records in my early teens. I had “The Bowie Wall” in my room, with photos painstakingly cut out and pasted as a mural-like collage, but this was only a superficial marking. Like many teens trying on new personas in the process of discovering themselves, I was fascinated with the way he could exquisitely morph into a new character as easily as slipping on a new coat.

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