Keith. My first artistic crush. My first style icon. Born to be photographed in dangerous black & white. A beautiful, slinking menace. You frightened the silly out of my little-girl, 1980's world. I'm reading your autobiography, Life, and having a blast. Worshiping outlaws and running with their chaos goes deep for me - my Dad too was untamed, untranslatable and at the end, just as happy to shake his white locks at the runaway sun. Solitary. Loyal. Original. Adventurous. Misunderstood. MEN. They don't make them like you guys anymore. The mold is broke. Cheers to some of the last, romantic bandits!