There are no limits to the act of the imagination.
was the catalyst of creativity.
He demanded we play
& play is serious
& play is joyful
& play is painful
& play is life ... & death.
He has flown from this world of practicality.
The place he taught the practice of making the impossible possible.
I hold him here deep in memory.
I loved & fought him as if he were my father.
The last time I talked to him was too many years ago. He was enthusiastically discussing his upcoming role in a stage production of My Dinner with Andre. I wished to tell him he respected me more than I deserved. We weren't in his atelier but in a garden of paradise and I wanted this revolutionary veteran to know without his support I wouldn't be where I was or where I became. I didn't but we did embrace & in his grasp I would have liked to have been able to comfort his restlessness - the disquiet that lurked around his expressive power. Thinking back a crow was perched on his shoulder but my memory tells me there was no crow although I look at the face again to make sure.
He worked so hard to provide a place to activate dreams. He toiled always for the "next generation". He shifted the ground beneath his colleagues and now he has removed the staff. He plays, for the moment, in the unknown, inexplicable shadow. We walk transformed.
Vision & Liberation dear friend.
- See: Memorium
:: note :: ...email from Hilde informed me of his flight into eternity ... some scanned photos from where our time stands still ... don't know if it's 1978 or 88 or even 2008 ... we are locked in a room at the Dramatischem Zentrum Wien, eyes looking through each other, he recently returned from Bali, me leaving for Canada, both trapped in Krapp's last tape, rewinding over and over again searching for the exact spot where demons meet or at least trying to leave our senses while remaining perfectly lucid ... in the insanity found myself thinking about happiness and when you're happy you tend to lower your guard and face up to mirrors ... the curiosity towards mystery ...