(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2005 09:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rmSince last night, a number of details have emerged about the suicide.
Including that, based on his journal, it happened on Valentine's Day and was just discovered yesterday. Inevitably, this become part of the story for the reactors, and not just part of the clinical tale.
The journal entries are themselves awful to read, in that his last post was a lengthy FAQ on suicide, which I didn't really look at when I saw it, but then a mutual friend mentioned reading his journal and I went back. And under that, on the morning when he did it, is him noting them time and his fears about doing it and just chatting about getting up the nerve... and it's inevitably, one of the most visceral, heartrending and nauseating things I've ever read.
He was an artist, an obscenely gifted artist, of the sort that made people believe in a world from which these things must have emerged in some full and total way -- that in itself is a hard nuance to describe in a way, and one I will probably write about more as regards him once I can get my brain screwed on again, but obviously, that type of gift, that also by happenstance sketches a universe of origin, is one of those sorts of things that just inherently appeals to me and wins my respect. And now he's gone, and in his last post, asked for his art to be burned.
Including that, based on his journal, it happened on Valentine's Day and was just discovered yesterday. Inevitably, this become part of the story for the reactors, and not just part of the clinical tale.
The journal entries are themselves awful to read, in that his last post was a lengthy FAQ on suicide, which I didn't really look at when I saw it, but then a mutual friend mentioned reading his journal and I went back. And under that, on the morning when he did it, is him noting them time and his fears about doing it and just chatting about getting up the nerve... and it's inevitably, one of the most visceral, heartrending and nauseating things I've ever read.
He was an artist, an obscenely gifted artist, of the sort that made people believe in a world from which these things must have emerged in some full and total way -- that in itself is a hard nuance to describe in a way, and one I will probably write about more as regards him once I can get my brain screwed on again, but obviously, that type of gift, that also by happenstance sketches a universe of origin, is one of those sorts of things that just inherently appeals to me and wins my respect. And now he's gone, and in his last post, asked for his art to be burned.
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no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 04:26 pm (UTC)What candles may we hold to speed their way?
Their flowers shall be the tenderness of patient minds
The pallor of girs' brows shall be their pall,
And each slow dusk, a drawing-down of blinds"
Wilfred Owen
no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 06:45 pm (UTC)I wish I could have said goodbye to him before I moved.
It's a nasty, nasty loss.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 06:25 am (UTC)