long live dash by glenn o’brien

LONG LIVE DASH by glenn o’brien Dash Snow is dead. The great Dash is gone. I heard about it yesterday, when one of his best friends suddenly burst into tears and ran from the room. All I heard was the word “Dash,” but I knew what had happened. Dash was a rope-walker by nature. He was an artist working up high, and the gravity got him. He’d fallen. I was surprised and stunned and saddened, but not shocked. He worked without a net. And with a high degree of difficulty. Dash was a beautiful person and a genuine artist. A lot of people didn’t get the genuine part because to them he was a gossip star, all image. But he was the real thing, and sometimes his real was so in your face that people thought it must have been an act. It was an act, of course, but it…