Marc...

.

 

in the early morning hours of saturday, september 21st, one of my greatest and most loved mentors died in southern california.  my sweet, sweet Marc.  he was 71 years old.  i had no idea he was even sick.  no one really did.

400+ miles away, i'm sitting in bed with a cocktail, finally free to cry after battling through a night of waiting tables where i wanted to cry every 20 minutes. i only went to work today in the hopes of getting out of my own head.  i only went to work today to make Marc proud.

god, i loved that man.  i really did.  i do still.  it doesn't matter how many years it's been since i last set foot in my home town, i still love the people i love and Marc was an enormous influence.  i adored him from the second i heard him speak.  i took my first class from him at the age of 18 and studied under him for 7 consecutive years.  he taught me how to make a mark.  a REAL mark.  "make a bold mark early in a drawing," he said.  "It doesn't matter if it ends up in the wrong place and needs to be erased; you've given yourself something to respond to and that's what art is all about." and as i write those words, i see it's a lesson that can be (needs to be) translated into all areas of life...  especially now when everything feels so raw and so dire and so fucking lonely.  i can't help but lend my voice to that tired refrain but it is absolutely true: when mike called and told me Marc had died, i felt like a light had gone out in the world.  

i hung on that man's every word.  i loved listening to him speak.  he had such a great voice.  so full of sensuality and humor and generosity.  after i'd been taking classes from him for a few years, i caught myself one day thinking, "... if only he were 15 years younger". hahaha!  and i fucking meant it too! his love of humanity and beauty was evident in the way he talked.  the lilt of his speech betrayed what a lover he was and i loved him for it.  in fact, i adored him to the point of anxiety.  i don't know that i ever completely relaxed around him.  i was so enamored of him and so impressed with him that it was hard for me to be entirely myself...  i wanted him to like me too much.  i wanted him to be pleased with me.  i wanted to make him proud. 

i was at fucking Forever 21 when my beloved friend Mike called and gave me the news.  at first, it felt like a joke.  there was no way this was real.  after about 20 minutes had passed, i tasted tears in my throat and knew i needed to find a bit of privacy.  i hung the clothes i was holding back on a rack and went outside.  it was pouring rain.  i ducked in to the alcove of a broken elevator and curled my self against the corner where two walls met, my back to the street, my face hidden from view.  there, i cried as i listened to Mike tell me about his last moments with Marc.  i pushed myself as far into the corner as i could go and covered my face with my hands.  

i want to call everyone i know and tell them i love them.

i'm going to stay up late drawing tonight.  it's the best thing i can do and the best way to honor Marc.  i can make a bold mark once more and give myself something to respond to...  a place to put the agony of my loneliness, the emptiness that charges forward with such brutality and callousness.  i can carve out a space for beauty and resilience and love somewhere in between these tortures and roll around in the tall, black grass of his grace...  a sliver of the generosity such a deeply affective mentor and friend bestowed to me.

i miss you, Marc.  it really fucking sucks that i didn't get to hug and kiss you one last time and listen to your stories.  god, i've missed your voice.  i've missed it for so long and now i will go on missing it.




i lit a Yahrzeit candle for him last night.  the flame was so tall.  it stayed that way all night, lighting up my room the way i would light up whenever i was in the same room with him.  it made me happy to see such a tall flame on his candle.  it suits him.  it suits how i feel for him.  what a bright light that man was.  absolutely brilliant.


i love you.