exactly.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
my dearest friend just passed yesterday...
my most significant and treasured human friend, donald vance. his Goneness just began yesterday. i wrote this throughout the night til this morning, this, my lil shot heard round the world. feel this with me, okay.
open this link and watch the video. when vusi begins to sing, start to read the piece. thank you...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_eJ8wuJyFjM
DEDICATED TO DONALD VANCE by Elisa Blynn
November 15, 2008
A line in this song by Vusi Mahlasela made my dearest friend weep at its beauty. He had been at my home for a few days for haven, to stabilize his breathing and his suddenly declining health. Fuller context necessary here but not the time now. We watched this video together on Friday for the umpteenth time between us. He died the next day in my apartment. On his own terms. The line is "Should I now stop singing of love, now that my memory is surrounded by blood...” He wept hearing it and said you can’t beat that for Beauty.
The last myself and his girlfriend Rebecca saw of him that afternoon, he was ecstatically joyful because he had succeeded, by examining and isolating all the triggers and functions in his body, which was in rapid decline, and manipulating those functions by gag, fag and slag, in arranging an order of their occurrence by which he could finally lie down on his belly (that’s how he likes to sleep) and go to sleep, to finally rest. His last dream as he told us was in three parts:
In the first one was a group of scientists, all male, working on creating this Gadget. They each had their own independent task and test and experimentation, each more or less directly related to the Gadget itself, and all serving the creation and purpose of this Gadget. They are each getting paid the same $400/month. They get into open hostile blows over discovering this...
In the second part is a shadow team of scientists, all female, performing the same tasks and experiments to build and create the same Gadget. They too discover they are each getting paid the same $400/month. There is no open hostility amongst the women, but there is sneering and some backbiting that faded quickly.
What’s the Gadget? We asked eagerly.
It’s a simple gadget, he said, that is capable of making an electromagnetic field where everything black becomes white. Sadness to Glory. In the thickness of despair, against incredible odds, to be Light.
In the third part there is god. I think it’s him, it’s don. (at any given moment he might say god is genderless, god is not a form abstraction, god isn’t any thing, god is everything, god is all there is, all that is is god, god is a fact). How can one see the face of god? We had been studying Moses thoroughly the day before. He couldn’t remember the rest of the dream.
He finished telling the story in a state of lucid dreaming and we three chatted and laughed and checked in with eachother. He got onto the makeshift bed, belly down, and groaned a lion’s share mooooan of pure satisfaction. He was asleep in seconds. Happy. Breathing big. Head by the window, fan pulling the cool rainy-day air into his nose, filling him with wonderful wonderful glorious o x y g e n. It was like a spring day too. Pouring rain and then a cool sunny scene. I watched Rebecca peddle off, put his clothes in the washing machine, did a lap around the block, rejoicing in the street at Beauty, thinking to myself how much Don would’ve loved this Day if only it were Night, got home and found him. Gone.
The Truest, Loveliest, most Authentic Being I had ever known. Age 39, doa, and at one moment i looked down and burst into huge laughter and tears at seeing, in bold, clear letters, printed and shouting up from the floor on the back of his t-shirt:
“I am the Reason and the Way – Donald Vance”
And I wouldn’t have missed it for the World.
Know Thyself, Consecrate Values through Action, Inquire, Investigate, See, Be Gigantic, Become Human, Be Alive. I dare you.
open this link and watch the video. when vusi begins to sing, start to read the piece. thank you...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_eJ8wuJyFjM
DEDICATED TO DONALD VANCE by Elisa Blynn
November 15, 2008
A line in this song by Vusi Mahlasela made my dearest friend weep at its beauty. He had been at my home for a few days for haven, to stabilize his breathing and his suddenly declining health. Fuller context necessary here but not the time now. We watched this video together on Friday for the umpteenth time between us. He died the next day in my apartment. On his own terms. The line is "Should I now stop singing of love, now that my memory is surrounded by blood...” He wept hearing it and said you can’t beat that for Beauty.
The last myself and his girlfriend Rebecca saw of him that afternoon, he was ecstatically joyful because he had succeeded, by examining and isolating all the triggers and functions in his body, which was in rapid decline, and manipulating those functions by gag, fag and slag, in arranging an order of their occurrence by which he could finally lie down on his belly (that’s how he likes to sleep) and go to sleep, to finally rest. His last dream as he told us was in three parts:
In the first one was a group of scientists, all male, working on creating this Gadget. They each had their own independent task and test and experimentation, each more or less directly related to the Gadget itself, and all serving the creation and purpose of this Gadget. They are each getting paid the same $400/month. They get into open hostile blows over discovering this...
In the second part is a shadow team of scientists, all female, performing the same tasks and experiments to build and create the same Gadget. They too discover they are each getting paid the same $400/month. There is no open hostility amongst the women, but there is sneering and some backbiting that faded quickly.
What’s the Gadget? We asked eagerly.
It’s a simple gadget, he said, that is capable of making an electromagnetic field where everything black becomes white. Sadness to Glory. In the thickness of despair, against incredible odds, to be Light.
In the third part there is god. I think it’s him, it’s don. (at any given moment he might say god is genderless, god is not a form abstraction, god isn’t any thing, god is everything, god is all there is, all that is is god, god is a fact). How can one see the face of god? We had been studying Moses thoroughly the day before. He couldn’t remember the rest of the dream.
He finished telling the story in a state of lucid dreaming and we three chatted and laughed and checked in with eachother. He got onto the makeshift bed, belly down, and groaned a lion’s share mooooan of pure satisfaction. He was asleep in seconds. Happy. Breathing big. Head by the window, fan pulling the cool rainy-day air into his nose, filling him with wonderful wonderful glorious o x y g e n. It was like a spring day too. Pouring rain and then a cool sunny scene. I watched Rebecca peddle off, put his clothes in the washing machine, did a lap around the block, rejoicing in the street at Beauty, thinking to myself how much Don would’ve loved this Day if only it were Night, got home and found him. Gone.
The Truest, Loveliest, most Authentic Being I had ever known. Age 39, doa, and at one moment i looked down and burst into huge laughter and tears at seeing, in bold, clear letters, printed and shouting up from the floor on the back of his t-shirt:
“I am the Reason and the Way – Donald Vance”
And I wouldn’t have missed it for the World.
Know Thyself, Consecrate Values through Action, Inquire, Investigate, See, Be Gigantic, Become Human, Be Alive. I dare you.
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