Day 25...

From Mike Willis:
Dom - I've known you forever- and I really don't know you at all. I've been reading all these blog entries filling up my email box and I kinda regret not knowing you better. I say "kinda" because regret is
something I don't spend too much time thinking about. I suspect you feel the same way.

Having said that- I do have a few thoughts I'd like to share. I'm sure you heard the story about Don and I met. However you probably never heard my version. (Don't worry, we come to you in a minute). In and
around 1979 I was a long haired wanna be graphic artist. I had little or no training. Four or five Graphic arts classes at BC. I was a half assed air brush artist too. So at some point I set out to try and get a job as a graphic artist. I look back at my portfolio and laugh. I shlepped around this gold framed airbrush art picture (glass and everything), and a couple of other "paintings" and a business card I
did for Rick Mears after he won his first Indy race. If someone came in to my office today with this portfolio- I'd think he was retarded.

In any case I went to Jill Thayer's office first. The name of her company back then (I believe) was "Expressions". She had this cool studio,and she was all bubbly and perky, I showed her my stuff and I
could tell she wasn't real impressed. Understandable- but I was a bit crushed. She showed me her painted rocks- and I was doing a mental head slap, thinking "why didn't I think of that!?" OK. Strike out.

Just down the street was an oddly named studio called Earthworm. In "The Old House", which was sort of a spooky looking place. So I stopped by and ran into a young man with a real high voice, washing
out screens or something. He said his name was Vincent and he worked for Don. I asked if Don was hiring. Sadly he wasn't... and I might as well just run along. I'm a little foggy as to how I finally had the
courage to walk up the stairs and meet the legend, but I did. Don was larger than life. His studio was so fricken cool. The big Sutherland masterpieces. The untidy mishmash of oddball signs and shit. I knew
this was it. This is what I wanted. He didn't hire me- so I went out on it alone. Rainbow Graphics was born. Which didn't sound gay at the time. Anyway, I started going there- seems like, everyday. Don didn't seem to mind me sitting on the other side of his desk. He reveled in being the master. He taught me calligraphy, one shot sign painting, silk screening. He was my mentor in every way. Not just art either.
He taught me the value of "always keeping a C note in your wallet". Actually I didn't have any C notes. But Don loved flashing one around. Probably his only one. And his ankle holster with the Beretta. And
his caricatures. No one has said this to this day- but if you really look at his cartoons- they all look the same AND AT THE SAME TIME look just like who they're supposed to be. I, to this day, have not been able
to recreate that. How hard can it be? Round head, big shoes, four fingers-- George Bush- next drawing- round head, big shoes, four fingers, this time , add some glasses, mustache, I'll be damned- it's Groucho! But his advice was golden. And I've been using his wisdom and his example to this very day.

OK- enough of that. Now to my fond memories of you. Blank. I got nuthin. OH WAIT- first time I met you and Amy at Don's house on Chester Lane. You looked just like a cartoon Don drew of you. You didn't say much. I thought you were a mute. Kinda just stared at me- like "who's this homeless guy"? Probably didn't say anything because your sister didn't let you get a word in edge wise. OK- then really nothing for awhile until the B street house. Yard sale, I stopped by and most of the stuff was like star wars action figures. I was thinking- dude don't sell this shit- you'll regret it later in life... like when you see vintage GI Joe's going for $200 on eBay... like I did... shit. I had a BLACK GI Joe with fuzzy hair. Probably the only
one made, and just like you, I sold it for a buck. But you were a hustler. Don told me how there was some stupid-ass fad at your school where you'd break your pencil by throwing it at the wall (or
something equally lame). Typical 8th grade genius. But you were the one who cashed in by loading up on pencils and selling them to other retards at your school... so they could break them... again.

OK- that was it for awhile. You had a bitchen' first car. Never saw you drive it. It was kind of weird - It was like I saw all the stuff you did, the car, the weights, masks, but you were never around. It was just the timing I guess. I knew you were creative and stuff, but never really saw any drawings per se. Then one day out of the blue or so it seemed) you were going to go to art school. And you guys were off with a handful of monster masks and some drawings to try and get into some major art schools. I never voiced this before, but I was thinking "no fricken way". Then I flashed back to me with my lame airbrush paintings trying to get a job, and thought, maybe, just maybe.

But it wasn't maybe. It was HELL YEAH! Don showed me the stuff you were doing. The drawings, marker work, figure drawing. And I'm thinking to myself- "Is this the same Dominic that's your son?" or
has someone else taken over his body? But I guess it was like the first time I saw you- there was a whole lot going on beneath the silent stare. Stuff that would surprise some, like me. But to the people you were with all the time- it was no surprise. It was like- I'm thinking

"Where'd that little mute kid hide all this talent!?" And other people are thinking- "Dom? Oh yeah, he's like, going to be the next CEO of Mattel. Oh yeah, for sure, right after he wins the Hawaiian marathon."

OK- so now the third memory, at least I think it's three. At the park for the Cancer get together, fund raiser. And to the best of my recollection, this is about the third time I've seen you in my life.
Right after the yard sale. Except now you're not 3 feet tall with a bowl haircut. You're this ripped he-man with gnarly stitches going around your head. And instead of a Luke Skywalker doll clutched in
your hand, it's a beer. We did the man hug, exchanged a few words. But the thing was- it was like I'd known you my whole life... like real close ya know? And in that man hug- you conveyed that emotion or vibe right back to me.

The vibe was: It is what it is. No regrets. No apologies. Thanks for coming. Thanks for being my dad's friend... thanks for being my friend. See ya.

And that's it. I'm not sure how I should close this letter. So to use my earlier analogy. I'll just shake it twice and zip.

Love, Mike

From Leela:
Hello Everyone,
It is an honor and pleasure to feel the tremendous out pour of love,respect, and admiration expressed here for my cousin. While he and Ihave only had brief encounters at family gatherings, Dom's creativefocus and determination is always palpable.

Dom, please, know that you and your family are in my thoughts daily. Iknow that Divine Right Action manifests in your mind, heart, and bodyimmediately. I'm sending an abundance of love, strength, and poetry insupport of your fondest desires.

Hailing your mission, Leela

Moving Forward
The deep parts of my life pour onward,as if the river shores were opening out.It seems that things are more like me now,that I can see farther into paintings.I feel closer to what language can't reach.With my senses, as with birds, I climbinto the windy heaven, out of the oak,in the ponds broken off from the skymy feeling sinks, as if standing on fishes.

Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Robert Bly

From Toni:
My dearest friends, family, and all who love Dom... I have a correction to make on my last blog. It was not the foot race of "Thanksgiving" 2007, but "Christmas" of 2007. Thank you so much for setting me straight Scoob. Not that one holiday is less unique or important than the other...I just happen to spend almost every holiday at the Wayne/Tackett household, with the rest of our extended phamily, and I got confused.
I had the chance to sit with Dom yesterday, and hold his hand and reflect on his strength. We were talking about how Dom doesn't care much for name brand clothing, how he isn't afraid to go against the grain, and how he doesn't appreciate complaining or feeling sorry for yourself. How Scoob had a sinus infection, and was bummed about it (we all know how uncomfortable and painful those are!). Suddenly, in the presence of Dom, you feel like an ass complaining. I have been training for this marathon coming up in October and I wanted so badly to talk to Dom about how I irritated my toe nail. I was messing around and ended up catching it on something and ripping it off...lots of blood and throbbing and pain was involved. I was sharing how I understand why ripping nails off is a form of torture, and Don very gracefully reminded me that Dom, would probably say it is just a toe nail. He's right...thanks Don for reminding me.
I am so grateful for all of the reminders that Dom has given me over the last couple years. For me, Dom lives the way we all should be living. Some words that come to mind are simplify, laugh, cherish, love, and LIVE. Thinking of him leaves me inspired and a bit angry at the same time. I want so badly to help fight the fight, too. I figured one way is to raise money for the families who are going through fights of their own with cancer. I am also running the Nike Women's Marathon in S.F. in October. It is my first time running and I am so excited. So far, my fundraising is not going too hot. Like Hope, I too, need to raise $2800. I need $700 by July 22nd, in order to "recommit". I wasn't going to post this, but I figure I need all the help I can get...so do the families that Team in Training supports.
Please visit my link, and forward it to anyone you know that may help out. http://pages.teamintraining.org/cca/nikesf08/tbouck
Let's Bring It to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society in the name of Dom and everyone else in our lives who is or has been touched by this disease! With all of my love...Toni Bouck