By: Laura Walker
I’ve known Matt since he was a skinny, zitty teenager… not much has changed since then (wink wink). As a man, he was just as fun-loving, outrageously silly and sweetly affectionate as he was when a kid. He never got embarrassed when my sisters and I teased him, even though there was plenty to tease him about, such as his blue leopard hair (see picture above), his loud-patterned shirts, his various ways of posing for pictures (mouth wide open, gangsta hand signs, looking hardass even in selfies).
He was beautiful in his brokenness, his openheartedness, his bad-assed-ness. No matter what, Matt owned his shit and wore it proudly. Deeply sensitive and talented, he strutted to his own beat, and invited those around to join him. With the wisdom of an old soul dying to just be a kid and have fun, Matt boldly showed up for life with authenticity and vulnerability, traits that so many of us were drawn to in him, and felt safe to be ourselves in his presence.
Matt, I love you and I am grateful to have bumped up against you and witnessed the faces and phases of your life you’ve shared with me and my family over the past 20 years. I know you have big work in the beyond-space-and-time. If you need me, I’ll be your hands and feet, your voice in this physical plane.