Stone to Wind, Wind to Stone

Billy here writing this post.

I've been a friend of the Lucas' since i met Greg in the seventh grade. I've known Dan through a lot of different phases of his life. Its incredible to me, as in difficult to believe, that he is gone.

I'm very sad, a bit lost in the labrynth of existential esoteria, and feeling kind of spun out from the last several hectic weeks, culminating in Dan's death...even despite the overflow of positive things in my life right now.

It is such a sudden wrenching-open for the channels of grief that run through our souls that it takes time, who knows how long, for our spirits to adjust to their new dilation of sorrow across the bandwidth of the heart.... Its almost ten days ago that i found out Dan had killed himself - its crazy, but looking back over these days, with my mind semi-paralyzed in frenetic thought-motion, i can see how the thoughts drift forward in time at the same speed as the surrounding current...unable to change trajectory, spinning in lazy circles...i am called in my mind to afternoons floating with Dan and Greg down through the gorge of the French Broad river near our spot in Asheville...absorbing something powerful together in the feeling of the water and sun - life can seem so endless...foolish, i know.

Miss you Dan.

Big love to Greg and Dana and Peter on your journey across the plains....



pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew -- big exhale.

Alright...i am pretty much done with a brief period of intense tear shedding just now. I'm going to switch my mind and switch gears, and consequently, switch posts.

Greg - really looking forward to seeing you when you get back. I definitely can say that the community here is rallying in their hearts for you and your family, Dan especially. SO many people ask me to convey their empathetic feelings of kinship to you. And i know also that when you all get back home, a new part of the journey begins, much of that infused with love, appreciation, and solidarity from folks back here in the garden of your everyday.

peace everyone.


"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs."
--Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It