We remember in scenes, fragments. Our memories fade and shift, but sometimes there are people who convey a wilder and ultimately more direct experience of whatever world they find themselves in, virtual, real, it’s a real sense of simply hanging around with the person – that helps you to breathe a little easier, see things a little more clearly. It’s a hard quality to discover in anyone, and rare. I first ran into what might have been a San Francisco Warehouse with a really big guy in there. Grad school nuked my chance to do anything else but study for the next few years but then I think I ran into Larry in some 3D models and groups online, that were working out stuff they were planning to do at their burn. I got interested, and tried to help with these groups wherever and whenever I could. Still do. My first burn, I was hammering away on something for someone out there on the Playa and who pulls up but Larry, white hat. And we talked. I can remember almost every word of the conversation, and also – the thought that, wow – this conversation is kind of going places. Larry’s last words to me were .. Why not make your work and play the same thing? I did. It changed alot. And you know, it was the right word, at the right time, in the right place. It was a scene. That’s what I remember most. And when you can build these things out, carefully – in your own life – it’s fun. People’s souls travel in the spaces of real numbers, they touch and modify the spacetime continuum – it’s not a question of belief. Your presence here on this planet, has changed it. And if anyone can make it to Mars, even better. That would be another planet, but the continuum is physically different. The way I’ll remember him, is to just work – with these two hands. Whatever’s gone away, is gone. And yea, sometimes I wonder – if I was in another dimension, looking down at this reality off-axis. If we could talk to him right now, he would be the person who you could tell, to his face. ” Hey Larry. You’re wrong. This machine had a soul. Something that goes on.” And he’d shrug, laugh – and say, with the cock of the head – ” You might have something there. Fuck, you’re talking to a Ghost right now. ” Now we play muffled drums.