I miss you, dear heart. You are never far from my thoughts. Love. x
We have selected two organizations if you would like to donate in his name: "Taos Toolbox" (a writers workshop) and "Beyond Rescue" (an animal rescue run by his friend, Corina, who gave his dog a home after his passing). Here's how to donate:
Taos Toolbox - Paypal: dubjay@walterjonwilliams.net - or - make checks payable to: Walter Jon Williams, 16 James Sanchez Lane, Belen, NM 87002 (please write "Chris Cornell Scholarship" on the check memo line).
Beyond Rescue - go to website & click on donate: www.gobeyondrescue.org
Tributes
Leave a tributeI miss you, dear heart. You are never far from my thoughts. Love. x
I still think of Chris often. He's in all my online contact lists and I don't have the heart to remove him. The upshot is that I see his name fairly often and can even look up old chats we had many years ago. His wit still makes me chuckle.
One of the most surprising things to me was learning about his writing and his music. He's was involved in so many things and I only knew about the smallest slice of them before his passing. The creativity he possessed was amazing.
About two years ago, I became inspired by him and took up my own writing again. It turned out to be a great experience and I met a lot of new people because of it.
As I read all the wonderful comments here, it strikes me just how much Chris meant to so many people. If I leave behind just half that kind of impact one day, I can consider my life a success.
Thank you Chris! You're still making my world a brighter place.
There's a car in front of my house with a fake skeleton strapped into the passenger seat. And I'm listening to your voice on soundcloud.
https://soundcloud.com/meanwhileincalifornia
Spooky, right?
e.
Your generosity last year enabled a participant who otherwise couldn't have afforded to attend the opportunity to fully participate. Thank you all.
Walter Jon Williams
"Imagination"
by Chris Cornell 1985
Imagination calls to me
Soft whispers on the wind
The urge is irresistible
It's waiting round the bend
What awaits me in this land
Where dreams and reality fuse?
Every image that you conjure
Lives for you to use
The door is open to us all
Don't waste the chance; be bold
Take the world inside your hand
And of your dreams take hold
This place, it lies within your mind
Reflection is the key
Shape your world and things behind
The portal to the sea
The passport is within each one
Who knows this fascination
Enter through the gaping door
And spark your imagination
Today I was listening to "Wild Beasts'" album "Smother" which was something Chris and I were into, but his memory was more subconscious. I started thinking about my past SF city life and how Chris was my partner in crime to see strange indy modern noir movies at the SF Embarcadero theater at odd hours.
We always seemed to share the same view of "two regular guys" being juxtaposed into a strange place, and being observers of it's odd particularities.
On one particular occasion we were getting tickets for a movie, and getting our popcorn situation sorted. On the table, Chris noticed and pointed out they had "nutritional yeast" in a small shaker. I think my response was "....SF man..." and we laughed.
It wasn't a few days layer I'd see Chris at work and hear him randomly start to say "yeeeaast" in his distinct voice. And it wasn't long after that it became the new greeting in our chat dialogs. "Yeast!" ie. "what's up!"
Those who know him probably remember him doing things like this...I loved it...I was just telling my wife this story, and it occurred to me that this is how we'd know it's "really him" should we ever discover we're in some sci-fi matrix or something. Chris gave us tokens to know him uniquely, that once heard, your whole friendship could quickly be re-booted with a smile.
It wasn't long until "Yeast" became a mis-typed "Yost!" and it stuck! I know he used the term in other contexts so if you've ever heard it you can thank the person who thought serving "nutritional yeast" with popcorn at the Embarcadero was a good idea.
Miss you brother!
It's your friend, Carpet. Remember that name? Bostjian named me that for my "lesbian haircut" (I had long hair, what was he on about?) and you kept it as my nickname. Oh, how we laughed. You also called me "Kitty Kisser" since I told you how I love my cats and kiss their little heads. That stuck, too. So, Carpet KK is here, thinking about you and missing you.
Happy birthday, love. I will raise a glass to you tonight.
Last we chatted (via Twitter!) We spoke about best platforms for podcasts, and I was so happy to see your writing was published. So proud of all you've achieved.
We met in grad school and I loved you since I met you. I felt instantly "at home" with you. You're fun, smart, and so loveable and adorable. We talked about Motorola Razor phones, fandom, panopticons, Lacan, Marshall McLuhan, audio, oh! And you edited that wedding video I shot for a first client. I think I paid you more than I earned on that, since editing takes a while. And, you're worth it. <3 It turned out so well!
Remember the time we went to correct papers as Michelle's GA's? It was at her house. Good times. Grading papers was hard! We shared so much that year.
Chris, you were so good at everything you did. You're one of the special renaissance men who just added so much value to every group project, with humor and grace. You are also so kind. So kind. So gentle. So right about things we would discuss in grad school. Spot on.
I miss you lots and wish I could bury my face in a big bear hug with you right now. There's a Chris sized hole in my heart. Love you.
........................................................................................................................................
Well they built the Titanic to be one of a kind, but many ships have ruled the seas
They built the Eiffel Tower to stand alone, but they could build another if they please
Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt, are unique I suppose
But when they built you, brother, they broke the mold
Now the world is filled with many wonders under the passing sun
And sometimes something comes along and you know it's for sure the only one
The Mona Lisa, the David, the Sistine Chapel, Jesus, Mary, and Joe
And when they built you, brother, they broke the mold
When they built you, brother, they turned dust into gold
When they built you, brother, they broke the mold
They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong
'Cause all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone
Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold
Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold
Now your death is upon us and we'll return your ashes to the earth
And I know you'll take comfort in knowing you've been roundly blessed and cursed
But love is a power greater than death, just like the songs and stories told
And when she built you, brother, she broke the mold
That attitude's a power stronger than death, alive and burning her stone cold
When they built you, brother
We hit it off instantly when I asked him why there was a picture of a dead girl as his desktop screen. He informed me that it was Laura Palmer, from Twin Peaks. He asked if I knew of David Lynch... I had no clue. One of my fondest memories was seeing Lost Highway with Chris on the day it came out...we sat in the front row and I became a Lynch fan for life. But even better than that was having Chris to share this with. When he realized I had never seen Twin Peaks, strange envelopes of his personal VHS tapes appeared on my work chair. Thank you, Chris. Binging on Twin Peaks was my first series binge and it changed the game for me. It still is my fondest memory of living life in "the city" in my 20's. We would see Lynch films whenever possible and most recently got to enjoy Twin Peaks Returns. A highlight for me was getting to see Eraserhead (his favorite) with him in Berkely.
It turned out we both had music as a significant part of our past lives before getting into tech. It wasn't long after we figured this out that we secured a rehearsal studio in Daly City. We only used it once but kept it for several years. It became known as "the space", it came to represent our first inside joke (of many), it basically meant procrastination... the thing we keep meaning to get to. It would become the hallmark of many endeavors including a stop motion barbie satire, a membership in the SF film institute (so we could use their editing equipment), and most recently a full 10 song album under the name "Meanwhile in California" for which he wrote and recorded each song.
Chris, for me, was a soul-mate of strange and unusual. We were able to connect on so many specific interests. We loved weird German metal bands like "Die Krupps" and would always share music with each other. We would spontaneously suggest doing covers of obscure 80's songs. We got to see Gang-of-Four and the Descendants play in SF! I wouldn't have done that without him. He would make midi covers of crazy punk tunes and painstakingly program the drums to every nuance for which I could appreciate and reciprocate the effort.
We always stayed in touch throughout our different careers and life changes over 20 years. He was the friend I was always genuinely glad to reconnect with. Seeing Chris succeed, acquire a home, find and fall in love with his dog made my heart soar.
We made some memorable trips together. My first trip to Yosemite and a trip to Mono Lake and the ghost town Bodie were highlights. In 2018 we went to NAMM in LA (a thing we kept saying we wanted to do and finally did). Hanging out with Chris in LA, driving around Echo Park while he told me about "the Shield", quoting lines from Aliens!, hitting the Dresden, meeting up with his colleagues for dinner were definitely the highlights of the trip. I was stoked to learn of his writing accomplishments and world journeys with others here. I'm glad you all knew him and I'm honored to share that uniqueness with you.
In early 2019 Chris found a muse, he was producing 1 song per month! He would eagerly share them with me and I was blown away. I encouraged him to keep going...honor the muse..get the songs refined as we go. He ended up with 10 usable songs (including interludes) which I helped him get to demo quality and we even had professional drums recorded for two of them.
We were in contact daily regarding the album on Slack. Suddenly he went quiet, too quiet....
I still miss you, man, I'm glad you got those songs out there. I'm humbled and honored I could help bring them to the world.
The song demos are here: https://soundcloud.com/meanwhileincalifornia
When I need a Chris connection I listen to this song and I highly recommend it: https://soundcloud.com/meanwhileincalifornia/whole
Chris, your wholeness leaves a massive hole in our hearts, but maybe someday, we're gonna be okay.
When I can get my head around it, I'm hoping to return to his music. The goal is to have a professional engineer I know (who works at a studio in Oakland) finalize a couple of the finished tracks. I will then press these to vinyl in his honor. He was stoked at the idea of doing a bonafide "record". I want to do that for him.
BW, I've needed you more times that you knew. Eternal love and respect to you. Rest easy and love forever, BJ.
We never met in person. We'd planned to correct that in Mexico later this year for our friend Mike's wedding. We'd been making plans for silly shirts and hats to wear while we were there. There will be a somber note to the trip that will be hard to shake. It will be hard not to think: 'Chris should be here too.'
Since his passing, it's hit me over and over... I still want to send him a funny news article that I just read or get his opinion on something or trade puns with him or just reminisce old stories that would always make us laugh.
I'm grateful to have gotten the chance to have Chris for a friend and will miss him terribly.
A codebase is like a over-edited book, half-legible, equally confusing to the programer and the computer. An old half-built house where the finished table sits on a dirt floor that we imagine as tile but have not yet built. Woe is me, to walk these halls without you. Lucky me, to still see you everywhere.
Dan helped me organize some thoughts on our blog: https://ondema.io/blog/christopher-cornell-1967-2019/
In addition to being a talented writer, podcaster, and narrator, Chris was always gentle, kind, and funny. I am so very sorry that he's gone.
his kindness
his laughter
his thoughtfulness
his quick wit and humor
his sense of adventure
his appreciation of life
his creative nature
his acceptance and open mind
his sensitivity
his hugs
his beautiful face
his love.
The best human I will ever know.
It's been wonderful to hear from so many who loved and appreciated our Chris. I'm so glad I got to meet some of you.
Christopher helped my department set up week-long, hands-on summer math workshops for elementary teachers around the country. He was confident in talking with the math instructors, and they enjoyed talking with him. Christopher was a kind and gentle person who helped create a positive atmosphere with those around him. He was extremely bright and creative and had a clever way with words both oral and written. He was definitely a strong team member who worked diligently on any project.
One of his talents was his use of imagination. Once when I was leaving to teach a math workshop in Mississippi, he encouraged me to drive 100 miles north to Memphis to visit Graceland just in case Elvis was still alive, which I did. Somewhere he found this old paperback book purportedly analyzing whether or not Elvis was still alive and promised to read it and do a book report on it by the time I returned, which he did in Christopher fashion.
Another time when there was a news report about the authenticity of the Shroud of Turin, I ended up getting my own personal shroud designed by Christopher on my birthday. He loved Egyptian mythology and knew a lot about the various gods and goddesses, especially Ra. He loved music and some of us went to see him perform. Christopher wasn’t one to get up in your face or raise his voice. He had a quizzical way of just saying “really?” Then we would all burst out laughing.
The last time I heard his voice was when Lorena, another former colleague who moved to Florida, picked him up at the port in Fort Lauderdale after a writers cruise and drove him to the airport to fly back to the Bay Area. They were both laughing and talking about old times and surprised me with a phone call. Christopher told me how wonderful the cruise had been for encouraging up and coming writers and meeting potential publishers. I'm so grateful that I was able to listen to his podcasts and hear his voice and listen to his music. It made me smile.
His last message was an email when he was visiting Estonia and on his way to Finland. I was so happy that he was living his dream. I am especially grateful that those of us who worked with him were able to be part of his journey. Christopher, we miss you. You will be a part of our lives forever. Really!
I have gained so much comfort reading Ecclesiastes 9:5, where it says "the dead know nothing at all". I am so glad to know my family and friends are not in a state of suffering and I look forward to seeing them when "there is going to be a resurrection" (Acts 24:15)!
Chris was one of those good people who always reached out. He did me a great kindness once that was above and beyond. I'm going to miss him a lot.
Chris radically influenced my music choices. He introduced me to bands like The Dead Kennedys, Metallica, Joan Armatrading, Lene Lovich, Accept, and countless others. I am forever grateful for it.
More than anything though, Chris was a down-to-earth, caring person. He will be missed by me as well as many others whose lives he touched.
Thank you Chris for just being you, I love you and miss you.
Leave a Tribute
I miss you, dear heart. You are never far from my thoughts. Love. x
I still think of Chris often. He's in all my online contact lists and I don't have the heart to remove him. The upshot is that I see his name fairly often and can even look up old chats we had many years ago. His wit still makes me chuckle.
One of the most surprising things to me was learning about his writing and his music. He's was involved in so many things and I only knew about the smallest slice of them before his passing. The creativity he possessed was amazing.
About two years ago, I became inspired by him and took up my own writing again. It turned out to be a great experience and I met a lot of new people because of it.
As I read all the wonderful comments here, it strikes me just how much Chris meant to so many people. If I leave behind just half that kind of impact one day, I can consider my life a success.
Thank you Chris! You're still making my world a brighter place.
There's a car in front of my house with a fake skeleton strapped into the passenger seat. And I'm listening to your voice on soundcloud.
https://soundcloud.com/meanwhileincalifornia
Spooky, right?
e.
My Baby Brother
Chris came into my life when I was 16 years old. This sweet baby brother joined our family when most of his siblings were teenagers. I remember the first time I saw him. That was back when newborn babies were kept in glassed-in areas of the hospital & visitors had to stand outside the glass & look in. I knew instantly which baby was my brother - he was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. He was a special gift - almost like a son to me. I watched him as he grew and learned how to talk, walk, read. It was delightful to watch him grow into the fine human being he turned out to be. So brilliant. So kind. So talented. So accepting. So loving. It's been wonderful reading all of the posts from friends & coworkers - hearing about a side of his life that was different from his family. It seems his family isn't alone in our love for him, our appreciation of him and our awe at his brilliance. I will miss him always and am so honored to be able to say he was my brother.
Chris came into my life at Viable Paradise 2009, and you know, he was a guy I knew. It wasn't until he came back into my life about 5 years later that we became close.
While we were both attending Paradise Lost, a writing retreat in San Antonio, that's when we started to bond. I was SO SICK. Like an idiot, I decided to travel with a cold and turned it into bronchitis. Chris took really good care of me, making sure I made it to the drugstore, taking the time to walk with me as I lagged behind the group. He was the quintessential good guy.
He, George Galuschak, and I started hanging out online once a week, to talk about our writing projects. Chris and I went with Debbie Goelz to the San Francisco Writers conference to pitch agents, and again to the Writer's Digest conference with George and Miranda Suri. On the New York trip, we hooked up with Chia Evers again, and shortly after that, The Unreliable Narrators podcast started, because we wanted to put something positive out into the world. We did, with interviews Chris edited and produced. We also recorded E'ville, the radio show, together.
Chris was a supportive writing friend. He read all my manuscripts and returned insightful credits. Heck, when my first Klaereon book came out, he made me a monster truck ad for it, because it was a joke, I said I'd love to hear it, and he did it.
It was the great pleasure of my life to attend writing conferences with Chris. Together, we took the Writing Excuses cruise of Europe, Chris was one of the regulars at our Icon workshop, and we journeyed to Vancouver to the Surrey International Writers Conference. We went to a couple of World Cons together.
At one of those World Cons in Kansas City, Chris and I kept ending up in pocket dimensions. I went into a space where I could see the convention floor, but couldn't get to it, because I was in the off limits space of the convention center. Chris ended up in an abandoned hotel lobby, because one of the downtown hotels had bought a competitor and hadn't remodeled the space yet. I jumped off a tram, but in an alternate timeline, there was no door for Chris, and he moved on down the road to the next stop and circled back to my dimension.
If only I had realized the other dimension was still greedy for him, I would have said something. I miss you, my friend. I miss you so much.
"Oh, We'll Get There."
I have dozens of stories about Chris, but my favorite one is when Chris was driving Robert and me down the freeway in Phoenix, maybe 1987. I don't remember where we were going, but I do remeber Robert being anxious to get there (Robert was always.... anxious).
As our offramp approached ... and then went right by as Chris missed it, Robert was beside himself. "CHRIS! YOU JUST MISSED THE EXIT!!!"
Chris just camly replied: "Oh, we'll get there."
That one phrase really stuck with me, and to this day my wife and I use it to remind ourselves that life doesn't have to be so rigid and timetabled and uptight. When we're stuck in traffic, or taking the "wrong" turn, or sometimes just being out for a drive, the phrase usually comes out: "Oh, we'll get there."
Thanks Chris.