Mike was my great friend, mentor, elder brother. With delicate touch, almost shy, he knew how to transform any moment of life into myth. His magnificent exuberance and exaggerations were hiding a most delicate, concerned attention. To walk a couple of blocks down Prince Street with him would take an inordinate amount of time because he would know so many people and stop to talk a minute with each person, remembering to ask how is her mother, has the back ache improved, how did the last exhibition in the New Jersey art center go. I often invited myself for dinner at his and Lynnie's home. Dinner was always exceptional and food was taken very seriously, spiced sometimes by critical exchanges between the cooks. Whether there were guests or not, the talk would be enriching. Mike would interject sometimes some outrageous judgments about certain artists or persons in our society. He couldn't tolerate conformity and inauthenticity, especially in the arts. He once told me he drank so much because he was despairingly bored with all the pettiness and stuff we lose ourselves into, but he would lend a generous ear to each ad every person he met. When, however, encountering a person or an event that had freshness in it, he would enjoy it without rhetoric, with a hint of a smile behind His mask, and you know how elated Would He Was For It. His big head held-the memories of a long and Varied life, of extreme darkness and extreme light, of Which He Did not talk as much as he Could Have, Probably for fear of Imposing on others. As he Would like no weight added to the passing of life, we just keep going with a smile. Lucio Pozzi-January 2, 2008
Mike was my great friend, mentor, big brother. With delicate touch, almost timid, he knew how to turn myth into every moment of life. Its magnificent exaggeration and exuberance hid delicate attention and calls. We needed a lot of time to walk a few blocks away on Prince Street with him because he constantly stopped to talk to the many people he knew, and remember to ask how each was the mother, if the back pain was dimiuito, how was the show went into a cultural center in New Jersey. I am often invited himself to dinner with him and Lynn, always great food and taken very seriously, even with seasoned interfrecciate criticism of cooks. That there were other guests or no, the conversation was always rich. Mike and adds there sometimes intemperate opinions about certain artists or people in our society. He could not tolerate the conformity and inauthenticity, especially in art. He once told me that he drank so much because they desperately bored by the smallness of things in which we disperse. However gave all his attention more generous. But when he happened to encounter an event or a person who had freshness, they rejoiced without rhetoric. His half-smile behind the mask of his face showed how happy he was. His large head contained the memories of a long and varied life, darkness and extreme light, which did not talk much, probably for fear impose it on others. As he does not want the added weight to the passing of life, we continue with a smile. Lucio Pozzi - January 2, 2008
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