a very dear mentor has passed…
he held me close in counsel, sharing things the world would have judged him for on account of his pristine image and reputation… we were intimate.
he shared his honest critique of my work in equal measure with his praise for it’s craft and potency. later, he would implore me to consciously walk the fine line of honoring my creative voice while grappling with the industry’s attempts to make less of it… we were tribe.
we shared a deep passion and desire to do something for the youth… a project that spoke to them and served their needs. he would later honor me by sharing his sole novel, montaro caine, asking for my assessment before discussing its potential for the screen… we had respect.
he held space for me when another mentor, queen ruby passed, patient with my sobs for a woman that he was far more intimate with than myself… we mourned.
i turned him onto ginger and garlic when he was down with a cold. he turned me onto dark chocolate, noting its health benefits after sharing a salmon and rice lunch… we were healthy.
i joined him for my first and only meal at spago where wolfgang puck would swing by the table to say hello… everyone present at every other table would either nod respects from afar or float by to briefly share their enthusiasm for being in his presence… yes, he was majestic but... we was just hungry.
used to seeing me in a motorcycle jacket, jeans and timbs, he told me to put some clothes on so... I hung a suit. he hung his suit, as was customary for him when going out, and he didn’t call, he didn’t email… instead, he walked me into CAA to present my work to his agent, years before black fell back into fashion, to share his enthusiasm about me, what he saw in my work. they failed to see it… we failed.
sir poitier was here for me, really here for me and so many others, in so many ways… i love him, adore him, follow him and will miss him dearly.
