James Thomson

Chris was a dear friend. In my six years of knowing him, we formed a bond I could never forget or ever hope to duplicate. He changed my life in a thousand small spectacular ways. I am so deeply saddened to lose such a pure and true person.

My deepest sympathies go to his beautiful family, partner, friends, and followers.

With love,

James Thomson

Creatively, and personally, Chris was always a source of inspiration and encouragement. I wrote a poem for him.

it was cheating
when your heart was beating
extra
for the rest of us
when you were next to us
we were further from the end
than we had ever been
each night’s a beginning with such a friend
are you listening

you were my best

father brother number one
funny how you called me son
and you were so much younger but wiser
ever rising
never falling
the stars are calling you
to their gorgeous silence and glorious noise
all your sadness and all your joys

i feel you now

are you still a traveler
as you always were
now breaking bread with emperors
and lost cats and lost toys
pretty songs and white noise
are you listening
are you drawing clouds on clouds
flying clear of all your shrouds

all orange
all warm
no secrets now
no darkness now
only sunrises
only spring

I am adrift without you
with these empty hours and white flowers
listening for you
remembering you
and your open face
always smiling

always listening
listening to your stories
listening for the hooks
the smell of dusty clothes
the smell of dusty books

you and me
with cheap cigars in rusted cars
the hopes and sounds and broke guitars
a world was ours
and we were listening

are you calling me
from cryptic drawings and coded notes
like flashing lights from far off boats
in the bottles and in the smokes
in mile-wide smiles and winter coats