MOURNING PAUL MARSH

When Paul Marsh and I were in art school we both thought Brigitte Bardot was the most glorious woman on the cool green Earth. Paul also worshiped Gene Vincent and Franz Kafka and could hotwire any automobile known to man. So this picture is for you, man. Paul went on to be a smuggler, reefer runner, and cocaine cowboy, and in the process became well acquainted with the tides of the Caribbean, but also the interior workings of the British, US, and Jamaican prison systems. I was just told he died of lung cancer. He used to smoke unfiltered Pall Malls. His friend Alun described his exit thus. “It was lung cancer but typical Paul wouldn’t go to the doctor or take any government drugs his last hours were spent with a gram of pure acid, a bag of skunk candy, and the whole trilogy of Lord of the Rings. Wish it could have been different but, hey, the circle of life and all that shit. They were all his choices and you cant say fairer than that.”
Paul was also passionate about Jimi Hendrix so this too is for you, bro. Could be I’ll see you in the Grey Havens sooner than we think.

The word is no secret.

Pic from Tom Sutpen