WILLIAM WILSON

Bill was my professor for 5 different College courses. He was by far the most influential person in my life. He taught me how to think. I was fortunate enough to see him one final time in the mid 90´s at his home, where I was able to thank him, and replace a copy of Birthplace which I had lost. He was a great teacher, and a credit to humanity and The Humanities.

Another year passes and Bill is thought of often.

I don't remember how I met Bill. Somehow it was connected to Ray Johnson. I treasure my few encounters with him, and remember the passion with which he shared with me things he thought I should read, and the intensity of his presence.

Your presence at gallery events is deeply missed.

Here it is two years after Bills passing. I think of him often. I keep the copy of Freedom Hill by L.S. Asekoff that he gave to me next to my bed. His inscription to me on the title page says, about my language, Bill. The poem is dedicated to William S. Wilson.
I for one will never forget him.

To Dear William, who was the most charming gentleman I had met in a long long while. It is one of my deepest regrets that I didn't visit you at your home as planned to see your vast collection of Ray Johnson works at your place. RIP. I am still circulating Ray's postcards.

A great man.