A week prior to his passing, Merlin was allowed out of Wellesley Hospital to wind down his ennobled incarnation. That first evening, Friday, November 10, 1989, we sat in our 20 Amelia Street living room and listened to Vladimir Horowitz as he had requested.
Earlier that week, on Sunday, November 5, 1989, Vladimir Horowitz had passed. Enveloped in our waxing love, our souls were embalmed by Horowitz’s stellar artistry.
Shaman. Genius. Guru. For both Merlin and me, there was no greater combo of these qualities than embodied in Vladimir Horowitz.
The following day, actor, Joe Morton would fly in from Los Angeles for 24 hours to say farewell to Merlin. Though Merlin had not eaten in long weeks, his Candida precluded being able to ingest solids, he pulled up a chair and joined Joe and me as we dined on Chinese take-out.
This one act of Joe’s allowed Merlin to heal from the rejection of having been abandoned by his god-fugly Toronto so-called friends and leave this world void the bile of having been rejected – they chose to act as they did because, at the end of the day, a dog can always be counted on to lick itself and eat its vomit.
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Photo: Vladimir Horowitz. Vladimir Horowitz and Wanda Toscanini.
Love Wim’s masterful sensual use of light and colour.
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Twenty years ago, when flying in to Manhattan from Vancouver to be with then lover, Manhattan cabaret singer, Frans Bloem, I would meet Wim. As all I ever do is sense energy and think of anyone encountered as a Michael Overleaves puzzle – is this a warrior or just a cynic? – I knew without a doubt that he was an old soul. Like every other old soul encountered whose overleaves I have done, I felt a sense of home, acceptance and harmony for being in his presence.
At the time, Wim was sick in bed with the flu and so I went out shopping and got him some Campbell’s soup – what do I know about making homemade soup? – and spent part of an evening hanging with him. The interlude was truly memorable; it was like being in a dream which, incidentally, is also another hallmark for me of being in the presence of an old soul.
Provenance: Art Gallery Mount Allison University Sackville, New Brunswick
Gift of Mr. Ross B.
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Yesterday I did lunch with a friend from Montréal and we then went to the AGO – Art Gallery of Ontario to take in the recently opened Alex Colville show. I paused and actually lost tears on seeing this masterpiece. I have always liked his works and was not familiar with this piece. This masterpiece manages to perfectly encapsulate the utter abandon one experiences when focussed in flying dreams. For me the moment was truly rhapsodic.