His approach to life-art-culture, and the event he founded, changed my life-art-culture irreparably and beautifully. I’ve lectured about him on college campuses and made two Tarot cards featuring his face, but I only met Larry Harvey a couple times in real life. He was… normal… and down-to-earth. It was in Portland, maybe 15 years ago or so. We talked Oregon, growing up in this place, the freedom of roaming fields and forests and streams with mud in our shoes, yet the grey clouds always pressing down, the toughness and darkness underlying the Portland that visitors and newbies think they know. It felt great, having this conversation with this man whose work had already changed my life. It felt great, knowing that my childhood 20-25 years after his still had the same feelings in it, the same Western Oregon scenery. I felt seen and understood, felt that my home state was seen and understood by someone who matters, kind of like how I felt the first time I read Sometimes a Great Notion by Ken Kesey as a teenager. Larry, thank you for your moment of Oregon-ness with me. Thank you far more for sparking this enormous bonfire we all keep feeding with our art and spirit and community. Thank you for following your own weird vision and unfolding it into something that could be shared with others, a movement that could grow and swell and change. Thank you, thank you, thank you, and goodbye. T
Grey Skies Over Free Mud