
My brother, who died of aids about 15 years ago, spent his winters here in the nineties and early 2000’s. When he came down here, he took a lot of pictures that were quite stunning.
I donated all of my brothers negatives. He had a suitcase full of negatives and prints of his photos. I volunteered to catalogue some of my bothers photographs, and I delivered a disc that had a website on it. He built a website about the Lacandon… I don’t know wether we’re gonna get that up and running or not. They may be too old to be revised.

When I came down here in the fall, I decided to bring some of his ashes down. I was in the jungle with the Lacandon to help spread his ashes and find a nice spot for him. It’s not really so much closure.

My brother lived a really large life. He was a performance artist, he was a gay activist, and he did his work down here. Fifteen years after he died people are still telling stories about him and I figured.. they must be good stories if people keep telling them. So I’m writing them down. I am writing a book about the whole experience.
It’s going to be down here with my brothers’ ashes. I’m also writing about other parts of his life, but I would say a third of the book is taking place here.