Larry Holden, Granville, of one of the fiercest and most singular voices
in the world of independent film, passed away Sunday, February 13, at
the age of 49 from cancer. Whereas many knew him from his acting work in
various Hollywood productions, to him they were a means of enabling his
own stories told and bringing together Holden's Own Gang of Mobile
Artists. His true passion from an early age was telling stories; he
wrote hundreds of short stories, poems and songs before eventually
moving into films with My Father's House, which he wrote and directed.
Larry would leave Hollywood and travel the world with his wife Hanne
Kristiansen for the next several years, putting up his own money he made
acting to make his films. He was a loving, caring, supportive,
challenging, passionate... a genuine sweetheart of a husband. His
married life and his artistic life were woven together into a magical,
unconventional existence that would go on to inspire so many people
around the globe. They lived and made movies in places like Ireland,
Norway, Kawaii, Point Roberts and Gozo, before finally settling in
Vermont in 2006. Along the way they made hundreds of friends and changed
hundreds of lives. Whether it was acting in a small film to help it get
noticed or hanging out with the residents of a local nursing home,
Larry always found a way to help out anyone that needed it. In a room
full of people that know Larry, it would be very difficult to find one
that he did not have a lasting impact on.
His hunger for life and the love for people living it or suffering from
it, his relentless dedication to staying true to himself, his work, his
loved ones, love itself and the fearlessness to uncompromisingly do so
inspired so many that crossed his path to follow their dreams with
everything they have. Larry did not care whether that dream was being an
artist, a mechanic or a full-time mum –- as long as you followed it. He
knew what time it was and he faced the fact that it's running out for
all of us. From his perspective, not spending it on what your heart
desires the most was bordering on insanity.
We will never forget the vision of Larry when shooting films finally
became everything he wanted it to be. Baffled and blissed, half his hand
covering half his mouth, his body cramped in the oddest positions to
keep him from bursting out in laughter. Those and many other golden
moments in the history of Holden's Own Gang of Mobile Artists will
resound in our hearts forever. For the HOGMAs left behind, we find great
comfort in knowing that a new wave of artists has been inspired to
create and continue creating art that is unafraid of risking it all in
the name of creative freedom as a result of their encounters with Larry.
In the midst of this sudden darkness, no matter how we try to wrap our
heads around the loss of our comrade -- a brother, a fighter, a healer, a
troublemaker, a visionary, a hero -- we may search endlessly for
answers that will never calm the squall in our souls that urges us every
day to make the most of every precious hour we have, and all the
beautiful things we can do with our time here on earth. There is an
immense void to fill with his sudden, tragic passing, but Larry would
not want us to focus on the negative. He would want us to keep our heads
held high, placing slowly but surely one step before the other,
throwing our miniature regrets to the wind, and instead focusing on the
beautiful memories we made while we walked side by side with one of the
most magnanimous and vivacious individuals this world had to offer.
Every day seems
A day without reason,
Since this bitter winter
Took a man in the midst of his prime.
I’ve seen this night before,
Woven into shapes too bleak for dreams
Beautiful to behold
But it swallows me like the sea
Of endless dreams and iridescent memories.
A ship sailed in twilight,
We’re left waiting at the dock
As our eyes drift towards the great unknown.
The wind is no longer a whisper
As years of encouragement, nourishment, and Love
That warmed our bones and
Lit a fire in our patchwork hearts
Parade through our souls like a bittersweet symphony,
Each note resounding louder than the last
As the wind howls and howls
From South Culver to the Valley,
Above the City of Angels to the Emerald Isle,
From the jungles of Panama to the haven of Muddywood.
I will never forget
At the tender age of eight,
When you showed me
My own words printed and published
Staunch black lines across a glossy white page
That my little hands grasped as I sat on the linoleum,
In awe as you showed me my calling
Before I was aware it even existed.
I lament not giving you a proper goodbye,
Although I am blessed
For speaking with you in your last days
And getting the chance
To live under the same roof as my hero
For so many months in your final year
(I only wish I could have known…)
And to be able to call such an amazing individual
My Flesh and Blood.
My Uncle.
As you swiftly glided into the night
You’ve left countless people
In an intense amalgamation of joy & sorrow
Joy, for all the beautiful frequencies
You tuned us into, and the memories you etched in our eternal being,
Sorrow for all the wisdom you still had to bestow,
And the time we all thought we still had with you.
(Though now you will always be with us…)
Your influence never knew boundaries,
And in the wake of a world without you
We still have so much to figure out.
But it helps us each and every day
To know you are in the company of your father
And other likeminded brave and beautiful souls
Whose presence upon our soil was unparalleled and short-lived.
The green mountains,
Your favorite sanctuary (and you’ve had many)
Will forever embody your precocious nature and fearless panache,
Which you wielded with such unyielding tenacity
As you taught us the fragile yet relentless nature
Of the human soul working overtime towards a dream.
-Ryan Laurence Holden circa February 2011.
A gathering to celebrate his life will take place on Saturday, March 5,
at 5 p.m. at D's Doghouse on the corner of Route 100 and Buffalo Farm
Road in Granville.
