The above clip is from an essay by writer, journalist and editor Tom Spurgeon, who died on Monday. He was 51. (So am I.) Tom and I have been in comics for pretty much the same amount of time.

I remember back in April that he wrote the following words, which caused me to wonder:

I want sloppy, beautiful, devastating art. I want experiences through art that are troubling and terrifying and joyful. I want to be desperate to catch up. The object of my affection may not be the same as yours, and in fact I hope it isn’t. I want to die with my head on its shoulder.

And then, I think, he did. I hope he did. I hope he left with calm and with love, because he deserved it.