a sweet and lovely man
Donald and I were students together at Cal Arts in the Seventies. We were roommates in Hollywood (what stories I could tell). At times, we were artistic collaborators. In those days he made strange “metaphysical” drawings and objects, then new wave window displays and jewelry, then beautiful mysterious stage works. I sometimes thought of him as the king of Melrose Ave. We trolled the punk clubs. He was my friend – a sweet-hearted kind man with a boyish spirit. I still laugh out loud when I recall a photo-novella he was featured in where, because of his ultra-white skin and flaming red hair, he became the exotic object of desire for a gay latin gang – who kidnapped him. Or did I make that up? I will always remember Don fondly. If people invent their own afterlife – Don’s will be a supremely lovely one.
Even if you did make that up Mike…it still fits Donald. I’m sitting here with Jill Giegerich trying to recall the Primal Scream performance Donald did at Cal Arts where he put us in a room and then came in and primal screamed for 15 minutes. Maybe we’re making that up…but it still fits Donald. Honey, take the afterlife by your calm storm.
there is an old fashioned very precise word that sometimes can usurp the function of “education”: it’s formation. He played a huge part in mine from the moment I met him.
He not only saw different, he could make you see different too. And, fuck, what a good writer and maker of plays.
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