|
Remembrance of David Gulassa My friend died last week. My friend who lived life as fully as anyone I know. My friend who worked with me on many of my art projects, who always had a better way to do something I brought to him. Who was delightfully irreverent at meetings with clients but always won everyone over to his way with his quick wit and his ability to convince them that anything was possible. Who constantly drew, quirky wonderful little sketches to illustrate a new way, a different idea, many times drawing these sketches upside down for the benefit of the person across the table. And who created an incredible company to turn these projects into reality. And it was always a two way street--he respected the people who worked in that company and they respected him. My friend was one of the truest artists I have known, not in the traditional sense of the word but in the bigger sense of the word--in the way he looked at things, in the way he paid attention to detail. The way he lived his life fully, without fear, laughing, creating, loving and believing in himself and believing in others, in the way he searched for the simple truth in materials and ideas. This search for truth is the search of an artist. I have been, like all of you, incredibly sad. It has felt like my heart has been broken. This sadness leaves, returns, followed by anger, sadness, anger at the boat, sadness, anger at the lake, sadness, anger at the water, sadness, and anger at the world for taking David so soon. Since last weekend I have circled the lake many times, ending up there at midnight a few nights ago. And close to that raw beauty, close to that nature, I understood why David was rowing across that lake. The lake at that time of night is beautiful, quiet, calm, soothing, solitary--all the things artists need to feed their souls. His death has caused all of us to appreciate the fragility of life, the closeness of our mortality. As my anger has settled, I am still filled with sadness but now am also filled with the light of David--his magic, his presence; and I feel luckier than I can imagine to have known him and worked with him. His life expanded the boundaries of family. He has a wonderful family of origin and a wonderful wife and daughter, but he also created another wonderful family which included his shop and his friends. Dying did not diminish David’s significance in our lives. It highlighted it and it now falls on each of us who knew David and loved him to acquire and pass on the lessons we can learn from the way he lived his life: to continue to search for our own passions and then to live those passions as completely as we can; to try to live our lives fully, freely and generously. David set that example--this was his gift to us. In return, our gift to him is to pay attention, to remember and to celebrate his full and wonderful life. This way we won’t lose him completely. My friend died last week. And I will miss him more than I can say. |