“The ripple effects of that have been really crazy, though, to see the things that’ve happened post-Mac: the flurry of inspiration, creativity, depression, all of it, just like, big wave of stuff. “It’s like a wake-up call for a lot of people,” he said quietly.
But nothing prepared Ellison for this, even as the thought crossed his mind long ago. Hearing me, Ellison tenderly shares how Mac was his neighbor, how special he was, and how befriending him - and knowing his struggles in flux - meant reconciling with never knowing when you’d see him for the last time. Either way, I hurry to explain myself, that me and many of the artists I know struggle with their mental wellness, and some deal with addiction and substances in tandem with those struggles. Two minutes in, and I’m worried Ellison’s reserved nature will dissolve into distaste for me, like I’m a fanboy reaching over his subject’s dead homie in a weak, insensitive attempt to connect or make a clickable moment out of his grief. Once I graze the subject of how Mac’s death shook me to the point of worrying for my friends, Ellison deadpans a short retort and waits stoically for me to elaborate. The wound remains raw for Ellison it didn’t occur to me that I was the first person to speak with him in a couple years, let alone the first to ask him about his close friend’s passing on record.
