A former Blue Laker texted me this awful news last night, and it still hasn't quite sunk in yet. I hadn't seen Kyle in a few years since we both moved away from Portland, but this doesn't seem real. He's supposed to be in Austin now living the dream, not taken away from us for forever.
It's funny all the little things you remember about people, and how they seep in and change you and/or your perspectives in subtle ways. Kyle taught me the word "thermocline" one sunny day at the Farmhouse as he was discussing his sunburn. He was truly one-of-a-kind. Only Kyle would be discussing something as random as thermocline while hunting in the garden for aloe vera.
He once did a whole feng shui reading in my house taking hours to get everything just right. Thanks to Kyle, I always now close my toilet lid when not in use so as not to "collect stagnant chi." In return for his careful plotting of my sacred space, I gave him a tarot card reading. We interpreted it as he needed to move to Portland, like so many other Blue Lakers at the time of the "Great Northern Migration" circa 2008-09, to pursue his musical career. He moved up not long afterward and I followed close behind.
While in Portland, I'd introduce him to new friends as "Cool Rocks," which became my nickname for him because of a Jade Stems song about searching in the forests and on the beaches for cool rocks. I thought it was the coolest song ever, because who doesn't like looking for cool rocks? And who else would've thought to make a song out of it? Only Kyle.
My first birthday in Portland, as I was moping about doom-and-gloom style, depressed over something as ridiculous as my birthday, Kyle helped organize a spur-of-the-moment music show/birthday party at a friend's coffee shop/theatre space. He showed up with his electric saw wearing thick black eyeliner. Really, only Kyle could get away with pulling off such a strange and wonderful combo. The highlight of the evening was having my then two-year-old daughter pulled up on stage to sing me happy birthday to the accompaniment of an electric saw over ambient techno. Thank you, Kyle. You turned that day around into one of the most memorable birthdays ever.
We saw each other less seldom in Portland. A trek from the Southeast up to where Kyle lived in the far Northeast wasn't as easy as meandering up a gravel road to the Farmhouse anymore. I had to leave Portland in a hurry in less than ideal circumstances and didn't get a chance to say good-bye to Kyle or many other friends. I had heard he had gone to Austin, though, to keep on pursuing his musical career. I think the Portland winters were a bit much for a Florida boy, and I was happy he had moved to another place with a happenin' music scene.
Again, in my mind he's still in Austin making wonderful, weird music on that saw of his. To think that he's no longer with us just boggles my mind. Wherever you are now, Kyle, I know you're searching for cool rocks on the banks of a warm, beautiful river, beloved Indy at your side, smiling down on all of us as you now know all the secrets of the Universe. Rest in peace, my friend, you will be dearly missed.
Re: “UPDATED Former Blue Lake Resident, Musician Kyle Scott Killed in Car Crash: 'My Heart is Broken'”
A former Blue Laker texted me this awful news last night, and it still hasn't quite sunk in yet. I hadn't seen Kyle in a few years since we both moved away from Portland, but this doesn't seem real. He's supposed to be in Austin now living the dream, not taken away from us for forever.
It's funny all the little things you remember about people, and how they seep in and change you and/or your perspectives in subtle ways. Kyle taught me the word "thermocline" one sunny day at the Farmhouse as he was discussing his sunburn. He was truly one-of-a-kind. Only Kyle would be discussing something as random as thermocline while hunting in the garden for aloe vera.
He once did a whole feng shui reading in my house taking hours to get everything just right. Thanks to Kyle, I always now close my toilet lid when not in use so as not to "collect stagnant chi." In return for his careful plotting of my sacred space, I gave him a tarot card reading. We interpreted it as he needed to move to Portland, like so many other Blue Lakers at the time of the "Great Northern Migration" circa 2008-09, to pursue his musical career. He moved up not long afterward and I followed close behind.
While in Portland, I'd introduce him to new friends as "Cool Rocks," which became my nickname for him because of a Jade Stems song about searching in the forests and on the beaches for cool rocks. I thought it was the coolest song ever, because who doesn't like looking for cool rocks? And who else would've thought to make a song out of it? Only Kyle.
My first birthday in Portland, as I was moping about doom-and-gloom style, depressed over something as ridiculous as my birthday, Kyle helped organize a spur-of-the-moment music show/birthday party at a friend's coffee shop/theatre space. He showed up with his electric saw wearing thick black eyeliner. Really, only Kyle could get away with pulling off such a strange and wonderful combo. The highlight of the evening was having my then two-year-old daughter pulled up on stage to sing me happy birthday to the accompaniment of an electric saw over ambient techno. Thank you, Kyle. You turned that day around into one of the most memorable birthdays ever.
We saw each other less seldom in Portland. A trek from the Southeast up to where Kyle lived in the far Northeast wasn't as easy as meandering up a gravel road to the Farmhouse anymore. I had to leave Portland in a hurry in less than ideal circumstances and didn't get a chance to say good-bye to Kyle or many other friends. I had heard he had gone to Austin, though, to keep on pursuing his musical career. I think the Portland winters were a bit much for a Florida boy, and I was happy he had moved to another place with a happenin' music scene.
Again, in my mind he's still in Austin making wonderful, weird music on that saw of his. To think that he's no longer with us just boggles my mind. Wherever you are now, Kyle, I know you're searching for cool rocks on the banks of a warm, beautiful river, beloved Indy at your side, smiling down on all of us as you now know all the secrets of the Universe. Rest in peace, my friend, you will be dearly missed.