Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Requiem For An Artist - Vincent Distasio

It was a year ago today.

He was perenially annoyed!! He came from a family of long-lived folks; an uncle had recently begun considering his heirs at age 92. 

Vince made a real effort to take care of himself. He'd had both knees replaced, fifteen years apart, and although they told him NEVER to run, it would wear them out or break them, he loved to run and ran every few days around a field near his house. He loved -- it's not too strong a term -- playing basketball and felt the same about riding his bicycle. In addition to riding it for exercise, he rode it everywhere to spite the oil companies. When necessary, he drove his 1972 AMC Hornet he'd bought new. He was lean without being skinny and we had a great time arm-wrestling in Flying Star on Coors last October. It was a draw...neither of us could "put the other down." He was pleasantly surprised as he lifted weights several times a week and although he knew I wasn't weak, I suspect he thought my weight gain had affected my strength.Of the literally thousands I worked with throughout the world, including the great UAE marketing company, Nakheel, Vince was the only one who became a friend.











In the early '60s, he married a German woman and moved to Cuba, New Mexico. There he taught high-school science and cowboyed during the summers, herding cattle on horseback and fixing fence. When I met him, in '93, his butcher shop had failed due to some kind of under-handed dealings and he was working as a meat-cutter while caring for an aunt who had Alzheimer's.



Outside Fisher Gallery on Central Ave in Albuquerque, circa 1993

A true iconoclast, he set the bar for individuality, creative expression and knowing where to find a good bearclaw (doughnut).

He crossed over last March. I miss him.

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