His name was Stevhan.
He was an amazing cook. Among other things, but I had to pick one. He made me coconut rice and black beans once. It was so damn good.
Here's a conversation I never had with him, but a friend did and told us about it last night, and I think it's great.
They were at a friend's father's funeral back in the small town where they grew up. The father had died unexpectedly. It was rough. Neither guy knew the father very well - they were there for their friend. They ran into each other outside.
(after the mutual "well this sucks, what the F" exchanges)(I have to mention that he did not harm any water buffalo. He just took photos of this place)
Stevhan: Sometimes you just gotta show up and be a body, you know? (long pause) Hey, wanna see a picture of Cambodia at this place where you can go shoot water buffaloes?
Here is a water buffalo.
This is a little scattered.
Bodies don't have to know what to say, they can just show up and that's enough. Fill the church or the bar or the house. Take up some of that awful empty space.