This is a short piece about Ray that I posted on my blog this morning (http://bit.ly/NO4KBM):

Have you ever stared at a painting, transfixed? Been momentarily lost in a few notes of music so expertly strung together it’s as if, caught in that moment, you were swept up into sound itself⎯a note among hundreds eagerly rushing towards the next crescendo? Have you ever been moved by a work of such grace and inspiration that the experience of it left you exhausted and exhilarated all at the same time?

We are all emotional creatures. Our lives are consumed with the collection of visceral highs. Some through sex, others through sports, most through cinema, and all through love. Emotions rule the day and emotional maestros, our hearts.

Ray Bradbury was one such emotional maestro; was _my_ emotional maestro. Not just an expert storyteller, but also a master craftsman. You didn’t read Ray; you lived Ray⎯such was the power of the master’s pen.

The world has lost an inextricable force of nature. Though we have his words to console us and his vision to guide us it was his voice that enthralled. A voice now silenced forever.