Dear Sweet Brother,
I can hardly remember when I first met you. Time has filled up that space between then and now with so many images. I have always adored you, respected your opinion and your art, and watched you and your enthusiasm for life/the creative process with total amazement. I love the way you wear your life.
One of the strongest and earliest memories is of the two of us sitting on chaise lounges on the deck looking over Puget Sound. You had called to ask to come over to talk about the creative process, and we sat there and talked about the process of making art, what it felt like, and shared. We especially talked about Soul Work and what that "calling" felt like. I was so touched that you valued my opinion, and felt so close to you as our paths were so obviously similar. Little did I suspect what the years would unfold for us.
I remember so clearly coming to your old garage and entering in the dark for a drumming. I could always tell when you were in the drum circle with my eyes closed as I could stretch out and find your drum voice so clearly. Again I always felt like we talked to each other and connected. Whenever you were part of the drumming I always felt like it was more musical for me.
And lets not forget Victoria's birth. Just to be a part of that magical moment in your family and how you stood at the helm and guided your family to safe shore was such a gift to me. Very, very magical. In total contrast was the drive to Hilo along those curves in the mountains after I had to change seats with Heller and give her my shotgun seat. I remember you driving and yelling over your shoulder to me "What ever happened to your cop friend that was going to come on this trip?" and her looking at you sideways as she is trying not to puke her guts out and saying dryly, "That would be me." And you just about driving off the road at the next curve laughing.
One of my fajita memories which I think really shows your compassionate yet darkly funny heart is you sitting in our kitchen in Montclair waiting for your girls to come downstairs so you could head in to Manhattan. Laura comes bounding into the kitchen in an outfit that was almost scotch taped together. You started to wince, then quickly rebounded and said in this unbelievably calm voice, "Laura, do you have something else to wear that doesn't look like it will deconstruct at any moment?" What a loving father you are.
I always marveled at how you and Delilah related, the deep water meets the tornado. Always good to watch the two of your find ways to communicate and explain to each other just what it was that you had in mind while bridging the gap between different opinions and ideas. Inspirational and helpful. You behind the camera in Hawaii, you behind the music for Calling up the Oracle, you gifting me with the drum tape to use for an art show. You give so freely and abundantly of your talents. Your open smile when you greet people and your open welcoming heart.
Steve, you are an inspiration to me. Your continued search for soul growth and your own personal truth helps keep me honest. We learn from each other, and your generosity and kind, kind heart help others to not be afraid to stay the course. Goddess bless you and protect you. May our friendship continue to grow. May your beauty continue to unfold in new ways. I love you dearly.
Sarah's upcoming Web site http://www.goddesses-art.com