This afternoon I was informed that Jackie Leven had lost his fight with cancer, and now I feel a bit lost.
Sadness has descended on my mood and it's difficult to convey why I feel this sense of loss.
I'm not sure, but tears might not be far off.
It's not like me. Not like me at all.
I mean I didn't know the man, and although I'd shared a few conversations with him over the years, and a pint on one occasion, that doesn't mean that there was any real kinship between us.
I am simply a fan. No more and no less.
The only connection we had was his music.
He wrote and performed his songs and I loved them.
I loved the brutal honesty and the soft voice that promoted it.
I can honestly say that I have never heard a song that he wrote that I didn't like.
Initially when I was told that he had slipped away in the night I passed the sad news on, and I think that by doing this I sort of avoided addressing it myself, but now in this quiet moment with his voice slipping out of the speakers I feel a great sense of mortality.
All things come to an end.
The last time I seen Jackie play was on the twelfth of August in a bar called Jollys in Kilmarnock.
The gig had been arranged by a guy called Jimmy Logan and I will now be forever in his debt for providing us with a performer of Jackie's talent to entertain us in such intimate surroundings.
Jackie himself was as usual a star.
That voice was clear, distinctly beautiful, and ill health never came close to touching it.
I'm thankful for that and I'm very pleased I have this memory of him.
I wish I could share it with the world.
This isn't one of Jackies self penned songs, but it feels apt.