I was not familiar with Theresa Duncan or Jeremy Blake. I read about them for the first time this morning in the The New York Times, where it’s reported that Duncan committed suicide last week and her longtime boyfriend, Blake, is now missing. He was last seen Tuesday night walking into the ocean at NYs Rockaway Beach where his clothes and wallet were later found.
A photo of Blake’s DVD art, Sodium Fox (above), including a dog, and links to Duncan’s blog The Wit of the Staircase were included with the article. This, beyond the tragic headline, drew me in. It’s the first time I’ve noticed the inclusion of a blog in a death notice and it offers readers (strangers — like me) a glimpse into a life that ended so tragically.
I know you can never know what goes on in a person’s mind, but with blogging, you can know what goes on in a person’s day. Sadly, one of the first signs that something was wrong for many people was the fact that Theresa hadn’t posted on her site for a few days. She usually told people exactly what she was up to and let them know she would be back later to post more. Now, fellow bloggers who never knew her mourn her, and daily readers lament not linking to her sooner…perhaps managing to cheer her up…managing to change the course of events on her final day.
This, I know, is chilling…even ghoulish pehaps. But it is also a very real outcome of being part of the blogosphere. I have spent most of the morning reading Duncan’s brilliant blog and jumping around those of her fans and foes. It’s bizarre. I wonder how long her blog will stay up now? Will someone keep it in memoriam for her? Or will it disappear when her membership expires? I feel compelled to read it now, in case it vanishes overnight. Like a mandala…or like a life itself.
Theresa Duncan was a video game creator, filmmaker, writer and perfume blogger.
Here is her intoxicating and spot-on response to an laist interview question; If you were to make a perfume that embodied the essence of Los Angeles, what would it smell like?
“My cologne is called Santa Ana after the powerful winds that bring desert heat and faraway smell into the city.
It smells like: Celluloid and sand, coyote fur and car exhaust, contrail cloud and chlorine, bitter orange and stage blood and one bushel of ghostly, shivery night-blooming jasmine flowers like blown kisses from the phantoms of the ten thousand screen beauties who still haunt our hills every full moon because they think it’s a stage light.”
Jeremy Blake is a highly acclaimed video and digital animation artist whose work has been shown at three Whitney Biennials and at a solo exhibition at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. He is represented by Kinz, Tillou + Feigen Gallery and scheduled to have an exhibition at the Corcoran Gallery in DC in October
May she rest in peace. And may he be found alive.
(No more puppy mills, disturbing flying dogs, or tragic young artist stories next week. I promise. Oh, and I missed posting on Thursday because I had a nasty cold. In case you were wondering.)
7.31.07 Update: Jeremy Blake’s body identified.
8.1.07 Update: Kate Coe does some real investigative journalism and starts to put the pieces together in her L.A. Weekly story The Theresa Duncan Tragedy: A writer-game designer and her boyfriend commit suicide, and a facade falls away.
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