My dad Charles Meyers passed away this past Sunday, August 4th at around 8 in the morning.
Those of you who knew him knew that he was quite a character, with a dark-as-night sense of humor and a predilection for awful puns and flirting with service industry folk (in case anyone was wondering where that came from).
For those that didn’t know him, he was an amazing artist, and you can see some of his work at http://www.charlesmeyers.com/
My father devoted his entire life to pursuing his dream of making art. He taught art history, oil painting and watercolor part time at City College of New York for longer than I’ve been alive.
Few of us will be able to say at the end of our time on the planet that we lived our passion every day.
He lived for the last 40 years at the same loft in the East Village of NYC. His entire life was in that loft.
A lifetime of things, small comforts and poisons, college papers and keepsakes and art and art and art.
The stuff that makes up the least important and most comforting/suffocating part of a life lived.
I wrote a little bit ago about leaving a legacy. This is his. All the art, and the lives he touched, and the people who can call themselves artists now because his teaching inspired. And me, I suppose.
He was not perfect, and we struggled to maintain a relationship as I grew, but in the end we came to an understanding and now he can rest.
You did okay, dad.
Be kind to yourself.
It was nice seeing you after all this time, although under difficult circumstances. My daughter, who didn’t see your father often, still remembers his many vests-many of which we saw Saturday ! I remember your father would put his arm around you when you came home and say ‘Hi, son”
We didn’t get a chance to give you condolences or to say goodbye but we hope to see you, and Kate, more often.
Tell her to check out Jittery Joe’s coffee in Athens.
There was a desk in the corner of the small living room in Richland Ave where lou taught your mother about business. With all that about communism he loved business to which Freda objected and I suspect Laura was somewhere in the middle . Freda was a fiend for the city.and walked so slow taking it all in that my legs ache remembering so i became a distance runner
.Louis loved the shop but my mother never set foot in it..It was kind of nice like an art place..Buy a vintage 50 zenith radio on ebay with the round dial. the first fm and you will see what was their “pride and joy”..and look at the 1950 buick with the teeth in front and nostrils on the side and you will see a little of your mom s world..
Jeremy, I’m sorry. I know it’s extra conflicting when the relationship was strained. I’m glad you were able to find some peace between you two.