I feel it is right and needed to communicate with you, even if I am not that good with words; you know, I usually draw what I feel.
But that door seems to be temporary locked for me. I do hope it’s temporary.
This would be a good moment to have a chat with you about it, you with all your psychotherapeutical adventures and your past with a family that has not been able to love you how you needed and deserved to. You would have understood and given one of your short, burning sentences of “fuck them all and do what you want”.
In a more elegant way. But this is me writing.
This would be one of those moments where a chat would have come in handy. But you are dead and out of my reach.
The past few days I have taken a lot of care in being pretty much closed to any emotion; I did not dare to let them touch me.
I dont want to realize that you are gone. I dont want to feel the pain and the grief. I dont want to panic.
I feel numb and angry. Which is a pretty fun combination.
I wish you were more careful with your art. You see, that’s all that’s left for us to remember you; that was such an immediate powerful tool for beauty to touch our souls.
I wish the pain didnt make you confused, tired, spent enough to forget to sign the documents to leave us your avatar; because it would have been an honour to keep your work alive, and to let new people find you.
I wish you didnt come from a family like mine, who never cared much about the most important things (your soul, your art) and too much for money.
I am angry.
You left this world and I want to hold on to what you created, and it’s escaping like dust through my fingernails.
I will miss you, my stubborn, stubborn eccentric fantastic friend.
I owe you one of the biggest lessons about art and people.
You told me that if you put yourself into what you create, people will feel it. And you taught me that with your actions.
And I want to remeber you as I last spent time with you and Hart inworld, at the fundraiser made to help you, with your smiling avatar, and your Marylin look…
I wish I was a better friend for you.
I did what I could, but it doesnt feel enough now.
I wish you didnt leave us like that. I wish you could have beaten that stupid cancer and come back to us for more years of creations.
But you are gone past the pain, past the illusion of the material world and into the light, I should be happy for you, eh?
Will you be behind some of the intricate beauty of the snow crystals of the coming winter?
Try not to be too bossy with God, or whoever has you with him/her now.