I am still buzzing over yesterday’s experience of reconnecting with an old friend. When I first met Greg he was living in the small studio that Indiana University gave to fine art majors. No dorm room, no apartment, an early piece of performance art and when I last saw him, sometime in the early seventies, he was sitting on a stoop in front of the apartment in the lower east side where he still lives.
Of course we had to run down the whereabouts of the Bloomington trailer denizens. He didn’t know Dave had passed on and that was a jolt. Greg had hired Dave to prepare the old drive-in screen that Greg repurposed as an installation. Greg loved the trailer and we all thought Greg was magical. Somehow I knew he would ride his bike back in to our life.
Greg is still a big idea, small footprint kinda guy. When the phone rang with his name on it it was as if he had crawled out of a cave. He has been living a self described, introspective, contemplative life devoted to art and he was excited to tell me he had recently come full circle in a long journey where he had set aside the production of tangible work. I had to hang up when someone knocked on our door. I told him I would call back to say goodbye but that would be silly.