excerpt# 1 from "My Imaginary Cuba"

I had the great fortune to be invited to D's house through a residency I was participating in. "Just your typical artist loft" as he referred to it , was a modern day NYC's artist dream. The kind you only have because you have lived in New York for 40 years and bought it when the city streets of Soho were still tumbled dirty with a collection of homeless people, junkies and the artist's community I read about existing but have never experienced.A slobbery yellow lab met us at the door along with a smaller wirey dog dressed for the occasion in a petite bomber jacket.We left our coats in guest bedroom filled with plastic painted pumpkins although I don't remember it being around Halloween.It seemed quirky and homely filled with antiques and plants.Not what I pictured a prominent artist's house to look like although I've never been to any artist's house that look like what I imagine it would look like, which is a mixture of the self consciousness of starched minimalism and three shades of white.During an informal dinner he sat next to me and talked about his love of animals and activism in protecting their rights as he petted the lab on the head, loving looking up at his owner.I found him gentle in spirit, thoughtful in his words and humble. He seemed to enjoy being around the lot of emerging artist numbering around eleven spread out around his table and couch.If I could describe his energy it would be the fragile strength of a man in his 70s who has lived a full life and the quiet knowing I've felt when amongst the Buddhist monks I have occasionally crossed paths with. I left feeling in love with the city I have chosen to form me for providing an experience I would have never had otherwise.

Two months later I heard of his sudden passing from liver cancer.I will always see him as the sweet crazy haired man with holes in the elbows of his sweater,sliding around in his sock on the loft's concrete floors and be thankful for his grace in extending the art torch in a sense to us. Some of us can strive to be the "father of a movement" but in honesty I think it might be best to hope to be as generous as he.