Gene sang this song at Ruck's memorial service, and I sang it at his, as an honoring of his beautiful voice. I got chills whenever he sang this song. Lion --------------------------------------- Bright Angel by Susan Osborn And when I let go, and fly to the sun, take my remains where the wild rivers run - and scatter them there in the dry desert air where the bright angel falls. There are times when my spirit, weary and worn, goes for the peace of the sweet canyon dawn; to rise from my sleep, dreamless and deep, to the canyon wren’s song... And then live out my days in the ancient one’s ways, dancing on ledges and riding the waves, listening to voices through millions of years - I’ll laugh with their laughter I’ll cry with their tears. La la la la…

Gene Kunitomi In Memoriam Deer Shadow lived his life out loud, Without compromise, without excuses, without the kind of concern for others’ feelings that turns men into overly sensitive new age wusses. But oh, he was sensitive. He wore his T-shirts inside out, he said, because he didn’t like the feeling of seams on his skin. Sensitive enough to navigate dangerous whitewater rapids “just so” and come out unscathed. Sensitive to any form of domination, authority, or unfairness, which he pushed back on with equal force. And sensitive to others’ needs and pain, wherever he felt like being sensitive. He had the drive of a Mack truck; pushing through barriers and limitations in the same way he pushed oars in the supply boat – with confidence, certainty, and clarity of goal. Gene knew. You couldn’t tell him anything that he didn’t already know or that contradicted what he already knew. Stubborn? No, he wasn’t arbitrary in his firm stance. More like the certainty of a perfectionist, a concert pianist, a master at his craft, or a religious zealot that believes so strongly in one thing that others’ opinions are not merely wrong, but irrelevant, even non-existent. And Gene was a lover. He loved women – as much as I do. We shared that obvious secret, belonged to the same club – the one in which men are out of control with their love of the goddess in all of her forms. We shared the secret handshake, and the sly wink, talking about females as if we were using a secret decoder ring to understand messages slipped under the desk in front of the teacher. He loved well and long, rarely giving up on a woman – or man – who could respond to his power, who could meet him in the ring of honest clarity, emotional battle, and intellectual courage. Gene respected those who could stand up to his internal power. One day at a men’s retreat, we confronted each other on a ropes course, as if all our history of working together and exploring together was brought all at once into sharp relief. Twenty feet above the ground, on a thin platform leading to a rope bridge, he told me that he should go first, even though I had arrived before him. There was something about fairness involved, how I was a selfish asshole, and he was, of course, right, and good, and deserving of his place ahead of me. I wouldn’t have it. We confronted each other like two snorting bulls, face to face, nostrils flaring, yelling full force into the others’ face. I was nervous, legs shaking, heart beating wildly. He was a force to reckon with. But I held my ground instead of giving way. The men around us were shaking, as well, uncertain what to do to avoid a fistfight there, twenty feet above the ground, on a thin wooden platform. Surely one of us would die that day. That moment, painted with such sharp relief and clarity, was a turning point in our friendship. He respected me for confronting him, and, as I recall, later apologized for being wrong, and being an asshole himself. It may have been the only time he apologized to me, and it was a precious moment. So this is how he lived, this Deer Shadow. He was more than mere shadow. He was a big buck, confident of his prowess and masculine presence, the alpha male in a harem of females, snorting wildly and tossing his antlers, ensuring that everyone knew…. He was the Master, the One, the Only, the Clear, the Certain, the Deserving, the Center of All That Happened Around Him. Deer Shadow. Gene Kunitomi. My friend. Bien’ Viaje, my brother. Good Journey to you. Fly in the Heavens and Ride the Rapids on the other side of this world. I love you, Gene. Lion

Written by Gene inside a card, as if he were going to send it to himself: Thursday, June 13, 1993 Dear Gene, The unknown, to do the unthinkable, To walk to my (mind) edge, then over it Frozen in fear, my body immobile Staring blankly at the rock Unthinkable to go back down Impossible to climb upwards. What do I do? Calls from below, of friendship & a common act of facing & overcoming challenge. Slowly trusting my legs, my arms, These sticky shoes – what am I hear for? To do it or fail. But to do it regardless of consequence. My vision clears and small hand and toe-holds appear. Tasting my balance, my strength, My foothold – one by one, it all comes back & I take a chance. Little by little, success after success, Foot by foot, I begin to climb. I’ve made it. Thank you. Thank you all. For your courage and spirit.

What a gift you are, our Gene - this be-ing - this gentle,warm,open heart - this resonant voice, resonant be-ing - which taught us more about the physics of the Cosmos than any book. Really, thank you dear, dear friend. ... - this warrior...like an ancient warrior who fell out of the Great Sky - into this American washing machine ...... caught viscerally in the transition into the Aquarian Age, finding your way. . .every day, finding your way.....with as much grace as was possible in the moment. What a gift - in our myst..... yes, I can feel your spirit so clearly - you are fine ! When I started to do a sacred clearing / blessing of Gene after he passed over, he was so clearly present saying.... "This is for 'everyone' - we are really one Aaiyn. We really are !" And thus Gene lives ever... in the big picture. Here on our little island off the coast of Maine - the moon is so close - huge, full, present ......we think surely it is ours - we who inhabit Casco Bay. Gene loved finding this world - where summer is near-incredibly lush, green - fresh. I am remembering doing Tai Ji with Gene at Sandy Beach; sailing; kayaking; drumming;feasting - and as I continue these joys I will consciously carry you forward dear friend - your pure, big love for this paradise. What stands out for me, almost more, though were the times when Mark and Seiji were with Gene - his utter love and caring; his deep, utter delight in being with them here, or when we were all in the City together for Jan's 50th. May each of you know that you will always be welcomed here in our home on the island - bonfire on the beach at Sunset for Gene, together. We are there in spirit for the Memorial. Actually, I started this past Weds. - Gene felt so present; all was clearly sacred. So I have been having a Haddock Fish Festival in his honor (he fell in love with east coast haddock) - having it in different ways; taking time to honor him with thoughts, stories, memories. Last night Arthur and I sat in front of a great fire, did the same and threw our wishes for him into the great cosmic fire of passion. Thus was the eve...blessed also. Tonight.....curried mussles and haddock right down on one of the great old wharf restaurants - honoring, toasting, loving this gift of a human be-ing now spirit be-ing - who so calls for us to the stretch into this next chapter. Blessings ~ ~ ~ Aaiyn. Foster af@maine.rr.com I

I first met Gene on the Yuba river, near Nevada City, where he was happily swimming naked with all the other hippies in the river. We liked each other at first sight, and that never wavered over the decade that followed. Later, my life took a rather different turn, as I followed my intuition about my life's purpose. Those were many years of struggle for me, without much money, trying to follow something I didn't even understand. Gene and Jan were always there for me, helping me when I flew out of town, giving me a place to stay when I needed one, encouraging me even when it seemed like what I was doing was just crazy. Gene, I just wished we had more time to swim in the river, hang out, and enjoy each other's enthusiasm. I miss you, old friend. Grant Raven McFetridge

My brother Geno, Your river of life disappeared from our view into the sands of the mystery. To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. – William Blake, Auguries of Innocence I remember you as Deer Shadow, disappearing, reappearing around Grandfather Fire, sometimes as naked as Mother Nature. When I visited you in the hospital, you asked me to sing a song as Songman. I first had to get over the voice inside that demanded certain conditions be first in place, but realized I needed to seize the moment as it was presented. I sang a love song for you, with the lyrics coming naturally spontaneously, trusting within the Sacred Circle we were there holding at you bedside holding your ever thinning hand. The notes of my song are, upon writing this memorial, running down my cheeks as tears. I pray, Geno, that you can take them on a wild ride down with them, and that Deer Shadow reappears. Ken To those honoring Geno with this visit. I will share with you the last correspondences I had with Geno. I am grateful for his talking with me as he was slipping into the sands. It is as pure as it can get. For it summarizes his beliefs - at least those affecting my interaction. He edified me continually, which really got the kupuri flowing in me. May it serve as my Song of Gene Kunitomi – Deer Shadow. May we edify and encourage each other. I do this not to toot my own horn, as I know that Geno was expressing the Ken or Songman within him that I am privileged to live out amidst all my stumbling on the Path. --- On Mar 25, 2008, I responded to a TED article that Geno excitedly sent our group [see http://blog.ted.com/2008/03/jill_bolte_tayl.php#more with the words: This story is so amazing its almost unbelievable. What do you think Gene I replied the next day: I brain, We brain wow perhaps the indoles affect attention to right brain We, wave, ALL; and the meth/adrenalin to left brain - numbers, detail, quantum particles, separate and distinct, and to the outer limits of particalization and paranoia, loneliness? I practiced resting from accounting work (very left brain, numbers) and meditate on expansive ocean, all, field of love (right brain). what do you think? Ken The dialog continued with his reply on March 26, 2008 Ho songman Left, right, left, right marching brainwise through life. Think,feel, think,feel careening your body past obstacles. Brain,heart brain,heart where do I belong? Meth/adrenalin, indoles--yeah that could be Corpus callosum that's the ticket to unifying the split,making wholeness,,,compassionate thinking,,,thoughtful loving Dont forget to sing, my man, songman sing,sing,sing. Sing a song sing out you're the man songman. May it be so. Lov Geno Sent from my iPhone He followed up the next day with a note: March 27, 2008: Ho Songman Keep on singing you be my songman forever Love Geno On Mar 28, 2008, Geno sent me an article entitled Harmonizing with the Universe found at http://www.dailyom.com/articles/2008/13031.html . I responded: HI Geno, thanks for the great article on singing. I imagine the singing from everywhere in the body. I imagine obstructions in the voice to be obstructions in energy fields in the body, whether intestinal, legs, etc. The full voice, is the full body clear. And I believe one can sing oneself clear. Listen to Paul Robeson - what a range - what clearness!. His conscience was equally as clear. And conscience for me is the measure of ones distance from the field of love, that universal creative substance common to all creation, and in instant communication with all of creation. I can sing for all, only because it is from the all. Anybody can do this by dropping into the Field of Love and giving voice to what is already present. love and all the creative juice therefrom, Songman :) Geno replied the same day: Yes you do tap in to the universal spirit in all of us. I love the free spirit in you that vocalizes. You give me permission to sing as well. That Pete Seeger bio has a clip of Paul Robeson singing-- wonderful. Spirit flows thru you so clearly kupuri streaming heartful energy songs singing singing singing songs flowing thru conscious heart from you to me and us and everyone we all rejoice may it be so. Love Geno Sent from my iPhone April 23, 2008 Ho Songman I love this quote and its for you: Music brings people together. It allows us to experience the same emotions. People everywhere are the same in heart and spirit. No matter what the form of our politics or the expression of our love and our faith, music proves--we are the same. Maybe we should be singing to each other all the time, not just at retreats. Gene Sent from my iPhone I replied on Apr 25, 2008, We are singing all the time to each other - sometimes it is a rap, sometimes the blues, sometimes soundscapes, together with the regional inflexions, all humans chirping or moaning their song of want, of joy, of recognition, of encouragement, of prayer, of nonlanguage and language and a mix of both songs. I hear you singing to me, in the hospital bed, as Deer Shadow by the fire, as Geno excitedly singing the newest hope in nutrition. I know you have many more songs that others have heard. Uni-Verse, One Song, many verses. aho, Songman www.harmonyfestival.com 30th annual on June 6,, 7 & 8th Chief Sonne Reyna (Yaqui) will be coming - its worth it to hear him shout out that ALL THERE IS IS LOVE. So start living like that is true, not just for you, but for all the U's in the U-n-I-verse. April 28, 2008 Yes we are. but of them all singing with melodies and rhythms is the best and greatest. Its easy, da da dada da dada, All You Need is Love, da da dada da, all you need is love, love, love is all you need.... Love Geno Sent from my iPhone So much for the Song in all of us. We also discussed the Roman Catholicism we both were born into, and I will end with this theme. April 19, 2008: Hey Songman This is a rant. So don't read it unless you are sick of religious nuts. Them Christians are still hanging on to the words of the bible as the "word of god". Nobody has ever asked them who copied the bible from the original Hebrew/Aramaic? The Jews! For over 1600 years, the Jews copied the bible, over and over, fighting with each other over the wording. Then who translated the bible from Hebrew/Aramaic into English? Who knows? King James So the word of god is Hebrew. Written Hebrew has no vowels, just consonants. Try to write English with no vowels. H-ell-, h-w -r- y--? - -m f-n-. So God spoke in consonants? How can I believe in Christianity, Islam or Judaism? They all use the same book as the word of god period Gimme drums, grandpa fire, brothers on sacred 'shrooms. Plant my arrows, dance naked round the fire, laugh out loud and sing,sing,sing. You be da man, songman laugh it out, sing it out joyously and let the Christians be dammed Love Geno Sent from my iPhone On Apr 22, 2008, at 11:01 AM, Ken Norton <fairlawken@yahoo.com> wrote: so true! Deer Shadow! People of the book have a obsession with salvation from others who think (have allegiance to other leaders) differently, whether as simply the "Chosen People", or "Washed in the Blood, Saved for Heaven", or "Martyrs Heaven of 70 Virgins and all you can eat." I wondered as a kid baptized and raised a Catholic, why my parents let me play with kids who obviously as Protestants or Jews would not have a very nice eternity as we Catholics believed in if we followed the moral code - a code very deeply intertwined with Empire first set up by Constantine in the year 300 and something AD. It is just one Book out of many writings suppressed or burned by the chosen ones (Alexandria library, lately the Babylon museum). Einstein said only our intuition can make the leap out of a knowledge realm, since knowledge is part and parcel of the knowledge realm we need to leap of to the new perception, more clean of the past restrictions. This an ongoing process, there is no arrival, birth, life, death of the ego/belief system of the old. Like old operating systems of computers. My CPM logic is found wanting in today's computers. Therefore the entheogens or other mind-suspension techniques, are placed in individuals' paths, for the temporary suspension of our operating beliefs. Songman zipp zipp whoop a loop ..... AHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Aprili 22, 2008 Hola Songman Being raised within a Catholic nursery by Little Sisters of the Poor, I loved and still love the ceremony and prayers especially in Latin. I got all the benefits and none of the guilt, none of the suffering and all the joy. My nuns taught me how to pray to God, my own personal god who I still love as my special secret friend. He's with me when we do sacred shrooms. What does entheogen mean? How does it feel to be an xCatholic? What do you call yourself? Love Geno Sent from my iPhone I had meant to answer his question, but I knew it would take time so I saved it as a draft that I never got back to. However, Geno sent me a prayer to forward on July 2, 2008, some 21 days before the last trickle of his river disappeared into the sands. . You are 1 of my 11, don't open until you can respond. Hi - I am picking 11 people who have touched my life and who I think would want to receive this. Please send it back to me (You'll see why). In case you are not aware! , Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways, meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love. She is represented by roses. May everyone who receives this message be blessed. Theresa's Prayer cannot be deleted. REMEMBER to make a wish before you ! read the prayer. That's all you have to do. There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the fourth day. Sorry you have to forward the message, but try not to break this, please. Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. Read the prayer below. Saint Theresa's Prayer May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be confident knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us. Now, send this to 11 people within the next 5 minutes. And remember to send this back. --- Now I could tell him what my xCatholic feels and replied: I liked the deep green holy cards of her with flowers. She was the Green Maiden for me. I visited her basilica in Liseaux – which was totally not Little. Neither was the basilica humble at Assisi for St. Francis, after whom I took Francis on as my Confirmation name. I didn’t do the 11 thing, as I don’t feel like taking on the rules, and I’ve rejected Catholicism with pretty much keeping those Nature-related beliefs that Roman Catholicism wanted to imperially replace. Thus I like Theresa and her Flowers and Francis talking to birds and wolves. But cosmic blessings back to you. -- Well, Geno responded with these last words to me: Hi Songman It was the thought of your loving heart that sent her prayer on. Blessings. Geno --- Aho – may it be so – All our Relations Ken Norton

i'm very saddened by the loss of gene - even more so, after having read all of your wonderful tributes! Gene was married to my husband, Herb's daughter, Jan. What stands out for me was his generosity of spirit! I especially remember calling on him to sing the song "Smile" at my daughter, Rebecca's memorial service back East in 2003. Although he was not Jimmy Durante' he sang with as much if not more heart! And then again when i recruited him to recite in song the Jewish Mourner's Kaddish in Hebrew at my husband, Herb's memorial service in 2006 in Maine. He was neither Jewish nor spoke Hebrew but was a citizen of the universe! Again, a most moving and heartfelt tribute! i'm very sorry that I will not physically be at Gene's memorial service. This is an excerpt from a verse by Jyoti: "And you spoke to me through the wind, and You sang to me through the birds. And you brought challenges forth so that I might listen to the message You bring me more sincerely. And I kept walking down the road. And I came' around the bend at the middle of that curve in the road and I began to find a secret in the Spirit of my Self... And I still walked on, sometimes blind and deaf, and sometimes with pain. But I fought my fears and embraced my unknowingness - and still I walked on. And my children and my family stood with me, and we came to know each other in those later years more then we had before - for some of our falseness had fallen away - and still I walked on. And I kept walking on this road towards You, towards that other world that grew closer to me with each step. And as the door of the Great Spirit world came closer my fear loomed up inside sometimes... But something called me forth - the morning star rose with each day - and my prayer became a centering - and still I walked on. Until I began to hear the Song of the Mother, and Her arms embraced me so, that instead of walking She carried me right to the door. And as the door opened, I heard Her Song, and Her Song lifted me up, so I could soar! Welcome homeward Gene! Blessings to Mark & Seiji and Sage & Jan

We have pulled the oar boat to the shore just above Clave Falls. Gene had invited me to go with him on this little trial run, and as it sounded like a fun adventure, I said "yes" without a second thought. Now I was having second thoughts. Gene was incredibly reassuring. He had run this river at least fourteen times without mishap. Hey, if Gene says he can do it that's good enough for me. I put my worries aside. Gene continues to scout the rapid, and I stand thigh deep in the current praying to Great Spirit, the power of the river, and anyone else that might intervene on our behalf. The two of us climb back in the raft and push into the current. In an instant we are swept to the brink. The boat noses over the crashing falls, dips downward, and slaps into the sweep of water that takes us safely beyond the whirlpool just inches to our right. What a gas! Gene is da man! That moment is the bright image in which we hold each other. I remember Gene bronzed in his short-shorts, little blue peaked cap, and drooping black mustache at one with the river, mastering the elements, fearing nothing. He had often told me how much he had loved watching me stepping past my fear as I communed with the spirits of the river. As he grew thin and weak struggling with the assault of his illness I held him constantly in the sparkling sunlight of that moment on the T. When he told me of his determination to beat the cancer, I was as convinced as I was that day on the river. The last time I saw Geno, the day before he crossed over, I was still convinced. I saw him standing on the seat of that boat, smiling, confident. But as I left I found myself questioning if this often retrieved memory actually happened? Was it really just the two of us all alone in an oar boat? What if the boat had flipped? If I got caught in that monster hole and Gene made it through he might have been able to save me, but what if our roles were reversed? I wouldn't have begun to know what to do on my own. I remember mentioning this moment so many times to each other in the past. Could even that recollection be faulty or altered? As I got in my car to head home, I made a mental note to ask Gene what he recalled. I guess I was still in denial. Obviously I never got the chance. On my way home from work the next day I went by the hospital again. When I got to the nurses' station on his floor and asked to see Gene Kunitomi the young woman looked at me blankly, then began looking through her records. "I'm sorry," she said, "he expired this morning." I've decided to keep the memory as is. I still see Gene riding rivers of light.

Meeting Gene: I did not just dig up this recollection since Gene has passed, its been a favorite story of mine since the day we met: I am blessed to live in Hawaii on the slopes of the world’s most active volcanos. Nearby there is a clothing optional black sand beach that is often frequented by pods of playful spinner dolphins. Over the 18 years living near this beach I have had 100’s of up close intimate encounters. One day I was the only swimmer playing with dozens of dolphins. I had noticed that there was a man on the beach watching me for over 30 min. Well after I was done I was walking ashore, naked, with snorkel gear on. This middle aged Japanese man walks up to me and looking directly into my eyes says matter of factly “I have to be your friend!” And friends we became! For those of you who knew him well, how appropriate was that to meet him naked. I hope to see him again sometime, and we’ll both probably be naked then also. Lorn Douglas

As my title suggests, Gene has come into and out of my life . I first knew him in high school. He sat behind me in study hall - do they still have such things? and we passed notes when the teacher/monitor was not looking. He became one of my group at lunchtime. We actually went to the same college, but ran in different circles. He reappeared at Folk Dancing 20 years later. He was visiting his aunt Sue and uncle Nate, who ran one of the local folk dance groups. We didn't recognize each other. Then somebody mentioned my first name - which is unusual - and Gene jumped up, ran over, greeted me, and gave me a big hug. What a surprise. So then we stayed in contact by email. And finally, for our 40th year high school reunion, he came to Chicago and we hung out together. We went back to the school and prowled the halls. It seemed so small. And we never really noticed the WPA murals on the walls before. Teachers hearing us came out to greet us. They aren't used to seeing oldies like us running around and talking the way we did. We even found a teacher who had extra copies of our yearbook - something that we had long lost track of - so we got a souvenir. And since then, Gene and Jan have been in my life as they often come to Chicago and we often go to California. Gene has always been a shinning light. It is sad that he is gone now, but I like to imagine that he is still shining his light somewhere in Heaven.

... I walked up the long hill from the Ashby Bart station in south Berkeley to the offices of the S.A.G.E. Project at the Clarmont Hotel. SAGE worked with people over 60 using the techniques from the Esalen Institute. Gene was a leader in the nursing home program. His energy, intensity and good spirit was palpable. He clealry wanted everyone to be with him "on the bus". You could choose not to be, but why would you? I participated in a group at a nursing home in San Francisco. I worked with SAGE for about 9 months. Gene and I went our separate ways. But we would talk or meet for lunch 2 or 3 times a year. I would call him on his birthday. Gene became an executive recruiter and I went to work for Xerox in software marketing. Gene found one of my new hires. Later my office at Tesseract was a couple of blocks from his at the Transamerica Pyramid. Gene's life was never dull -- full of highs and lows, drama and excitement. While I had taken the original Landmark Forum with my Dad in 1983, Gene and Jan prevailed on me to go for it again twenty years later. When I lost my computer job in 2001 and Gene's recruiting business dried up, we were both faced with making a major life change. With encouragement and a training manual from me, Gene and Jan went on to develop manufactured homes on raw land in northern California. I had gone to the course, but instead bought a bed & breakfast and became an innkeeper. Gene encouraged me to confront my fears. I know the last years were hard for Gene. But his spirit was always strong. I feel he is in a better place. I am sad and happy at the same time. I'm with you Gene. Love, Steve Unger innkeeper@lionrose.com

My name is Frank Lin but Gene called my old name Kyi. I met him at a real estate seminar and we became friends. We kept in touch over the phone most of the time but we had very good talk at dinner occationally. He visited my office to attend my seminar and we went to Palm Springs to attend a meeting. He is very energetic and friendly. I can feel very comfortable to talk to him everything. He is the person I can trust. I have lost a great friend in my heart. Yours, Kyi

My name is Trish, and I had the pleasure of making Gene' acquaintance by becoming one of his nurses while he was in the Rehab center in San Francisco. I must say that I had NEVER met a more Positive Person in my Life. He was actually one of the very reasons why I went to work everyday because each and Every time that I stuck my head in the door to let him know that it was time for our daily outing, the whole room would light up! You enhanced my life more than words will ever be able to convey, and your beautiful smile and wonderful outlook I carry with me everyday... Gene you are gone, but will never be forgotten...May your Spirit dwell with Angels. Your friend and Rehab Nurse Trish Gafford

I first met Gene when I joined a Mens group that he was part of in 1993. Being the ‘new kid’, I felt slightly reserved and hesitant to fully participate. I strongly remember Gene looking me directly in the eyes and welcoming me, encouraging me and offering me his support in any way possible. He never wavered on that commitment. Whenever I’d see him, there was always that familiar, open embrace and kindness about him. Make no mistake, Gene was a fierce warrior. From his days in the Manzanar Internment Camp in Death Valley, his tough up bringing in Chicago, to his struggles for improvement and his appreciation for nature never ceased. Even his final battle, he fought 100%. I always observed that he wore his t-shirts inside out. When I asked him about it, he told me that did that to avoid the stitching of the seams, which bothered him. So here was this fierce warrior of the heart with the sensitivity of a lamb! That was Gene. I love you Geno! I feel blessed to have had you in my life and to have been your friend.

Gene has passed on. Wow, that's a shock. He leaves behind a gap that he filled so well. He was always so warm and generous, so full of delight at everything, so engaging. He saw life in many things that we barely noticed. He always brought energy and enthusiasm with him every time I saw him. He made friends instantly. We did business together, but that was almost a sideline. Relationship was what counted. Constantly curious, he ran out the clock best he could. Way to go Gene! Now he has gone, I miss him. But his spirit remains, as others are saying. Gene may be gone, but his spirit is with us, so he is not really gone. Become a more essential form maybe, but more than a memory, yes. For now we call it Gene, but I celebrate and cannot resist that life that he felt and communicated and will always continue. Ride tall Gene. You are a good man. I enjoy you. I thank you for our moments. Meet you again some other place and time. Love with you, Timothy

… The very next day, the impossible struck again, when a very dear friend, too young to think of the end, didn’t wake up. A lover of all that was bigger than life, he filled up a room by walking in, and laughed heartily at himself and all the wondrous and strange parts of being human. I can’t actually believe that he will never show up again at my door, exclaiming and strangely costumed. It seems impossible. The unfathomable losses of life that crack your heart wide open and leave you looking at the world broken hearted are a gift. We get in those moments that all the petty and small disputes that can dominate our life and relationships are nothing. We are awake and realize we have another day to tell someone I am sorry or better still, I love you. With a broken heart we come to life wanting to figure out how to love it all, the loveable and the irritating, the easy and the difficult, the happy and the sad. We never know the last day. So act like today is it. And say the “I love you’s” that have been waiting to fall from your mouth. Give in, give up all that matters least and take this time to do what we are put here to do - love everyone you can.

Dearest Gino: Lion and I traveled down the Snake River as you lay dying…moving on to Spirit. We cried and laughed. We sang and talked with you as your Spirit was departing. We both felt you go just about the time you chose to leave; Crying laughing, chanting and letting go. Isn’t that just what you would have desired? In fact, that is exactly what everyone close to you was doing. And now you are gone from us all. Gino, you so deeply touched me. You believed in me so deeply and dreamed my dreams with me. What would a mens' retreat have been without your smiling face, naked body, crazy wisdom and playfulness? You were also willing to tell your truth no matter what and to stand your ground as your experiences dictated. Our last visit in March was joyous and full of that Gino Optimism…ready for the next challenge. So much to do and to see. I was so very comforted that you were surrounded by the love of your dearest friends and family. Lion and I took you to some wonderful places and opened our hearts and minds to your presence as we climbed mountains, rafted down the Snake and sat quietly every night, bringing you into our prayers before dinner. As I write, I can only see you with your shinning black hair holding your Death Arrow to the Fire. Goodbye, my dear friend. You touched so many and you did it all with the intense honesty that we all have been exposed to, like it or not. Please forgive me for crying as I write to you Gino. I am not really very good at this letting go shit. It hurts to lose you and I will miss you so very much. I love you Gino. Go to directly to God and don’t come back. Love and Blessings, Nick

My Spirit Brother Gino died yesterday. He went fast and peacefully, conscious to the end. He was a passionate combustible intense dancing wild man who lived many lives in his sixty five years. He loved the desert, camping out under the stars. He loved guiding his friends down roaring white water rivers. He loved singing, music, running around naked in nature - and where ever else he could get away with it. Two tears rolled down his cheeks in his last hours - letting-go tears when he realized his run in this life was coming to a close. We will take his ashes to the wild places where his soul ran free. We'll take his love with us for ever. Boogie on soul bro. You are in the Big River now. Paddle on. love, tomás (from Tomas Pinkson, Gene's spiritual counselor )

The following was downloaded from Gene's iphone. He wrote it a week before he died. From: Gene Kunitomi <ginokuni@gmail.com> Subject: We are all rivers of life To: "Jan Rose Distel" <janrosedistel@yahoo.com> Date: Wednesday, July 30, 2008, 12:34 PM I dreamed of 3 expedition river trips I never did. The first and wildest is the Bio Bio of Chile , the fiercest most challenging I know of. That was back when I was fearless and ready for the ultimate challenge. Many other events got in the way and the planning became impossible juggle of times and rafters. Instead, I fell in love and raised a family. That required whole different set of challenges and risks. What a life changing river trip thats been. No maps, blind runs thru scary places, no direction home. The second was running the Grand Canyon with my best friend Ruck. Tomas listened deeply to my spirit and called in Ruck, who instantly joined me. We became brothers in spirit and blood, meeting and planning all the details including a fun and exciting shakedown cruise down the Main Salmon. Then he picked a lovely spot to make quick exit to Spirit. Fro years I mourned his passing. My passion for the Grand disappeared. A huge hole in my heart leaked all my dreams of this fantastic friendship. I was emotionally bereft for years, floating down an emotional river of broken dreams and fantasies of what might have beens.Gradually I came out of it and a gentle place called to me. For near 20 years the desert has haunted me. My spirit hungers for the silence and enormity of the sky and stillness and barreness of the land. The Salt River of Arizona flows for miles thru an incredible Saguaro forest. A place for peaceful contemplation, to surrender to Spirit. Maybe thats the answer. Then last year happened to me. Hodgkins lymphoma grabbed my body and has sent me down the longest, wildest, scariest river trip of my life. After initial treatment went well, ive thrown back for a second more challenging run.In reflectiom, what ive come to see is that all of our lives are the mysterious river trips through life itself as Mother. We study and from others, mom, dad,family and friends, classmates, teachers, neighbors and make choices. We finally launch our boat into the social river of life and spend the rest of out lives studying it sometimes inviting others on our journey, sometimes joining with them in their boats we are blindSent from my iPhone