RIP: Dave Stevens

It's funny, I was often annoyed with Dave during the time we knew each other because he'd often promise to call and then didn't. He was, however, an excellent over-the-fax correspondent and we'd sail them back and forth.

So, here I am, on my forty-fourth birthday, and I find out Dave has died from leukemia. I had no idea, as the joke goes, he was sick. So very, very Dave. He frequently fall of the radar, then suddenly reappear, so I got used to not hearing from him for long periods. The last time was in May 2006, a very nice exchange I was just re-reading. What a sweetie. I suppose now, until I know for myself if there is a great beyond, I may be in my longest wait to hear from Dave.

Dave encouraged me in my art. He gave me great critiques, from which I learned things I still use today and pass on to others. (#1, use as few lines as possible on women, so they look pretty and not mannish.) I felt I had arrived at the Big Show when I showed Dave my in-progress cover for Cathedral Child, and he was impressed.
Dave encouraged my photography, too. I gained my love for photography from Dave and another friend, Roger. The thing they had in common was that they loved women in every shape and size. For a while, I wanted to be like Dave's favorite photographer, Bunny Yeager.(Bunny took what were inarguably the best pictures of Bettie Page.) I never came remotely close, but I do I feel like I'm missing a hand and an eye if I don't have a camera. (I always carry one, because I might miss something!)
I have an album Dave bought me when I visited him in Long Beach, rescued from the fire, of my work and the work of friends.

I was his model more than once, and I'm gladder than ever I was. Like Bettie, I am preserved in my youth in Dave's work. As Mark Evanier has said today, "He was truly in love with every beautiful woman he drew, at least insofar as the paper versions were concerned."
Ah, at least. I never knew a man who made me feel more beautiful, no matter what stage of my life I happened to be in. Dave, for his part,  was an absolutely gorgeous man. Whenever I was with him, I felt I must be looking at him in a state of hopeless longing.

At a Dallas convention many years ago, on a Friday, I walked up to his table to say hello. Flanking him were 'Beto and Jaime Hernandez, and Dennis Kitchen. Dennis said to me, "Hello, how's the prettiest professional in comics?" I blushed, Dave smiled, and los Bros snorted and elbowed each other. One of them, still snorting, said, "She's the second prettiest.. Dave's the prettiest professional in comics." Dave kind of wheezed, and said, "Geez, you guys." The rest of us laughed.
Dave always made a little time for me (and my husband, when he was with me), and I'm so glad he did.
I'm also glad he finally found what I think was probably the one and only true love of his life, Bettie Page. For most of the time I knew him, he was trying to find her. Once he did, he made sure he was with her on her birthday, even if it meant missing a convention.

Somewhere, I can hear him making a disgusted sigh that I'm even writing this. I heard that disgusted sigh often, because I was exasperating him as often as he exasperated me. Here's to our times, then, Dave. I promise not to go cry in a corner because you've pissed me off yet again.

I'll work and take pictures. You shut up before I go drink your stupid soy milk, rearrange the chairs and mess up the perfect order of things in your bathroom.

Until next time.

MOON!

My dear friends, all your good wishes ensured that this was not the Most Craptacular Birthday Ever. Between my shock and grief over the passing of my dear friend Dave Stevens, there is a lot of other stuff going on. Just a tough week.

You are all such good people, and I can't thank you enough.

Anyway, I went outside tonight so I could have a cold and crisp hour to myself. It's the first night I've seen the moon since I got the new camera. This camera supposedly can photograph the craters of our lovely neighbor, and I had to see for myself.

The moon was rather high and I had to balance the camera on my car because the shutter speed was so slow, but I got one!




Craters! How about that? I'm eager for a full moon and a chance to catch it lower in the sky!

Also, here's one of Summer bouncing on the trampoline:



She tossed Pikachu as she jumped into her forward flip. That is why they both look like they've dropped from the sky.

More Dave

Dave Stevens was a great friend of mine from the time I first met him in at a lousy convention in Houston in 1983. (Where I also met Scott McCloud and Alex Toth!)

I really, really loved him, and I am going to miss him so much. Just like everyone else, he encouraged my art, and made me feel like the most gorgeous creature on earth. That,I know I've already said, and I cannot say enough, because there were times when I just flat hated myself and the way I looked, but he never saw me any other way but beautiful. I knew that no matter how old I got, I would always be a beauty to Dave.

I don't know if anyone remembers the crazy-ass North Hollywood shootout in L.A. in 1997. The robbers were wearing body armor, and the last one was dropped on live TV. Before that happened, though, I could see the aerial view and, ulp, recognized Dave's house. I called to see if he was okay, because I'd seen his place on TV, for eff's sake. He was okay, but the whole neighborhood was indoors on police orders. He was glad I called.

After the Northridge quake in 1994 (when Summer was not even a year old), I managed to get through to him, even though he could not call out. I called his mother for him, and the relief in her voice made me glad I could help. To me, it was evident that she loved her boy, and this catches at my heart even now, because I love my boy, too. 

I am just so sad, so shocked, and at the same time so very glad for all the time we had. And if I ever needed more motivation to treat myself better and accept no less than what I deserve, I have it now. From now on, I will always be as kind to myself as Dave was.

Dave was, is and will always be truly one of the treasures of my life, and I was a better person and artist for knowing him.