I miss you, John.
27 years later, I still wish I could turn back the clock to the Summer of 1980. I remember everything – sharing our morning coffee, walking in the park together on a beautiful day, and seeing your hand stretched to mine - holding it, reassuring me that I shouldn’t worry about anything because our life was good. I had no idea that life was about to teach me the toughest lesson of all. I learned the intense pain of losing a loved one suddenly, without warning, and without having the time for a final hug and the chance to say, “I love you,” for the last time. The pain and shock of that sudden loss is with me every moment of every day. When I touched John’s side of our bed on the night of December 8th, 1980, I realized that it was still warm. That moment has haunted me for the past 27 years – and will stay with me forever.
December 8, 2007
Yoko Ono Lennon
Richard Biedul shot by Greg Lewis in the Lower East Side earlier this month.
I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m sick of over-produced photos of pretty young boys with full lips and flawless skin staring blankly at the camera. It’s boring. 17 year olds being anything other than 17 years old is boring. No life experience is boring. Adults projecting a stylized version of adulthood on a non-adult is boring. That’s why when you see a photo like this one above, it works on so many levels. You can relate to it. Here’s a dude in his 30s who has obviously lived life, sitting on a balcony lost in his own thoughts. Sure he’s a model and he and Greg were shooting that day, but this frame was captured at a break between shots, when Greg just happened to see him sitting there taking a moment to himself. There’s something honest about a photo like this and it evokes a feeling you’ll never get from some kid in the latest Givenchy looking at you from the pages of a magazine. I wanna see more where this came from.