I think of Paul often, how I met him for the first time at Farringdon station, after his first child was born. We walked up to Turnmills together – I was Reality Check's guest VJ that night. Even though he didn’t know me, he was automatically kind to me - insisting on carrying my projector (and they were big and heavy in those days). I’ve been thinking about some of the ways Paul touched my life since that initial meeting: 

He suggested inviting a guest VJ (whenever any of us landed a good gig) to share the experience.
He listened and valued what I had to say – even when I was a bit out of it or talking about death.
He explained clearly how he intended to remain true to himself, despite social pressures.
He exhibited his courage, when he asked if he could wear the Marilyn Monroe dress that Emma had just sewn for one of my multi-media pieces. It was the first time he came out to me as Candiflip.
He valued his own choices and told me he wanted to give that freedom to all his children.
His gentle endearing honesty.
How he always gave me space to be creative and encouraged me.
He taught me to recognise the gift economy.

He will be truly missed as the kind and creative soul that he was and he will be remembered with love.