I’ve been feeling numb and broken over the passing of my friend Bill King.
The objective reality is that he was a rare human who defied the absurdity and cruelty of our time by relentlessly motivating us to see what we are through playfulness, mystery, wonder, warmth, fragility and strength in his work. He proved to us that it is indeed possible to live with dignity and humanity even in a time like ours. He was 90 years old. Knowing how he was, he probably worked till the very end. Ending of his life should be celebrated as a great achievement.
But I selfishly wish that he still calls me to say hi, that we still exchange studio visits and chat about how things are.
Not feeling like saying good bye to him at all.
Bill, where did you go?