Today was a day that was pretty much worthless in terms of work. I just couldn’t focus on anything but yesterday’s news about my friend Andrew’s death. I managed a little bit of catharsis by having several conversations with people throughout the day, trying to reconstruct a bit of Andrew in his absence. First, an hour or so conversation with Saan in the morning, talking a bit about the recent past and how we were connected through Andrew. It was nice to talk to him and try to make a little order out of the absurdity of it all. I may go to Toronto to meet him before he heads back to London, I think it would help us both. Next, I tracked down friends in Europe that got to know Andrew at the same time I did, back in Paris almost 20 years ago. Starting with Sonia, then on to Karin, and finally to Jonathan — we lamented the loss and remembered silly stories about Andrew and all of us together. The recurring theme in each of my three conversations was of people slipping away, out of sight and mind, holding a vague sense that we will look each other up, one day soon. But then that opportunity is gone forever, and it stares us plainly in the face. It makes us sad and a little guilty. It was important to me to tell them how I felt and that I thought of them so often, even if we don’t speak that frequently. How those years were a kind of special foundation for who we all became, and how they gave me the spark of curiosity about the world that follows me to this day. Andrew was there, a part of that, and I am grateful to him for it, and to have called him my friend.