A friend died yesterday. His name was Sebastian Perez Cabrera, best know as Chano. He was diagnosed with cancer just a three months ago. I had written about him before. Here http://wp.me/p37Qzz-7D
He used to ring the church bell. Today at 4.00 it will ring for him.
He reminded me of Mick Jones of The Clash. He had never heard of Mick Jones, or The Clash, or anything remotely Punky. He listened to Classical music on a portable radio with one earpiece.
I'd like to leave the last words to John Donne (John Donne (/ˈdʌn/dun) (22 January 1572 – 31 March 1631) was an English poet and a cleric in the Church of England.)
No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
Sitting stoned staring blankly at yet another shrine I have put together for dead friends. This one is dedicated to Sebastian Horsley. He wasn't everybody's cup of tea, nor would he have wanted to be. Even at his very worst he was far more refreshing to behold than a bag of dried leaves in hot water. One afternoon he crept up the stairs in Meard Street Soho, knocked on my door and gave me this lion's skull as it did not interest him.