Last night I went home and dug out a picture that I took of Dash with his Polaroid camera a few years ago when we were doing a late-night at his house. He wrote in pen around the border of the image: "Moments Like This Never Last... Krills, Horse, Good Times, Great Oldies." It stings to see that drug talk in the context of right now, but it also reminds me of his sense of humor and how alive and awake he was. It seems to me that he packed more living into his 27 years than many people do in 80.
I just saw Dash on the Fourth of July and he was positive, happy, and up. He seemed totally clean and together that day, which makes what happened so much more of a shock. He was one of the sweetest, funniest, and most completely unique people I've ever known. And I've known some doozies. We had adventures and late nights and early mornings and a lot of talk and a lot of action. We'll miss him more than words are capable of expressing.
Ryan McGinley introduced me to Dash at his place on 7th Street a thousand years ago, and Ryan has something to say here now. There will be a bigger tribute to Dash in our August issue. For now, he and his family are in all of our prayers, or whatever you might call the things we do that are like praying. Because we are doing those things right now.
Remembering Dash Snow, July 14, 2009
Photos and words by Ryan McGinley
It's hard to remember exactly when I met Dash. It seems like we were immediately best friends. I guess I met him through Earsnot in the late 90s. Back then he was a graffiti writer known as Sace. He and Earsnot started the graffiti crew IRAK. They were the biggest vandals in the city. He was number one on the vandal squad's most-wanted list. But they never got him. He somehow always got off or got away.
Dash and I bonded instantly over photography. One of our favorite books to look at and talk about was American Pictures by Jacob Holdt. We were always taking photos. We loved to document our adventures and then compare them later. He carried his Polaroid camera everywhere. His photos were from the heart--he had a loving obsession with taking photographs. I always assumed he shot Polaroids because he had the worst case of ADD you could ever imagine. I think even waiting a minute for the image to develop was hard for him.
One of my favorite things about Dash was always his unconscious moving hand. He would be sitting there smoking cigarettes, writing his tag in the air without being aware of it. I would just smile and watch the smoke twirl into the letters S A C E. That's how I'll always remember him.
See lots of artwork and photos here.