I will be at the Animation Guild tomorrow night for the Memorial Silent Art Auction for my co-worker Simon Chung, who passed away on the eve of August 8. All proceeds will go to his family.
It was a pleasure knowing Simon, who was so full of life in the face of death. He had the cheerfulness of an innocent child, and the stride of a man in charge of his own destiny. Even without words exchanged between us, it was a delight just to be in his presence, watching him doodle his surroundings in his pocket Moleskine sketchbook. His infectious smile was the best thing about him.
I learned about his condition not too long before his final hiatus. We were having lunch near work one day, when he told me about his battle with multiple myeloma, and the chance that he might die from it. I was so in shock, all I could muster was a weak apology. He reassured me that he fully accepted his situation, and that he was at peace with whatever may come of it. His demeanor and the calm sound of his voice told me that he meant what he said. This is what I remember whenever I feel like crying over his passing. I stifle my tears, as I feel they would be an insult to him.
This is my contribution for the auction, my “Tribute to A Dance Around the Moon” that I made in 2010 for the “American Dad” art gallery, Freak Show. I had the option to auction it then, but I held onto it because I was proud of my work, and didn’t want to let go. When I learned that Simon’s art auction, which was originally intended to fund his medical needs, was still going on despite what happened, I looked up at that Charles Altamont Doyle-inspired drawing on my cubicle wall and felt its time had come.
I believe in God, and the promise of eternal life. I know that even though Simon no longer walks among us, his spirit remains alive and well. He never left.
Hey, Simon. This one’s for you, buddy.