i used to watch him in the UK when i was in my teens. one thing i always loved that he did was these great paintings - really fast on huge surfaces with a big house-paint brush, accompanied by music. it would look like jsut a bunch of random abstract splotches and you wouldn't know what it was until the last minute - and then he'd add a detail or turn it sideways or upside-down and it would all make sense.
this makes me sad. and retro-actively triggered - if that makes sense. like someone i knew and trusted and that didn't harm me - but to find out after the fact that he wasn't as safe and good as i thought. a close call sort of feeling - i've had a couple of those in real life.
"That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. . . What will your verse be?" Robin Williams as John Keating in "Dead Poets Society"