I received word that my friend Phil Guilbeau died. He was a goodie, and I sure am sad.

Soon after meeting him in San Francisco several million years ago, I insisted we become friends. He was irresistible to me. Personally, he was handsome, charming, softspoken, gay, and southern. His films, however, told another story — they were crazy, utterly subversive, and completely hilarious. It was that contrast of genteel/punk, buttoned-up/anarchic that hooked me. In the sometimes overwhelming and cliquey SF creative circles, I was always so happy to see his face at a gathering. I am glad we got to hang out a little over the years — we had some dinners, some nights out, some fun. I was a big-time fan.

My friend Danny, also a filmmaker and friend of Phil’s, says a few more words here on his own blog.

I say a word of gratitude, again, to Facebook, for reconnecting me to Phil a couple years ago. It was nice to chat online with him from time to time, to see that he looked like he was doing well, to say hey.

And now, well, he’s gone. This grand puzzle of life and death and love and loss gets ever more complicated as the years go by.

I send my sorrow and condolences to his friends and family.