Today we said our goodbyes to my cousin Clarence; he was, from Sea Island School for the Arts throughout high school my constant friend and singular hero. I have so many regrets about not telling him how much I loved him and how important he’d been in my life, how the bop in my walk was an imitation of his, how I envied his quickness with a smart response or a sharp joke, how I endeavored to draw even 1/4th as well as him. He introduced me to Brother Malcolm and Black Sheep and Black Moon. This kid from Brownsville used to tell this kid from Beaufort stories of wonder and adventure in Brooklyn (many of which in hindsight I’m sure were not true), and I’m not so certain I’d be living here in Bed-Stuy now if not for the magic with which he painted the place. Our time with him was not enough, but it was more than we deserved. I wanted to say this all at the service but I was a blubbering mess so I’m saying it here—to testify both to the greatness of what we lost, and what we were blessed to have. May he Rest In Peace.