David Hirst

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May 19, 2022

I can't believe that it's been just over two years. I'm at a loss for words, which seems proper given the magnitude of David's life and the impact he had on mine.

I find myself thinking about him often, revisiting letters and messages exchanged, the... more

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June 9, 2020

Oh, Dave. I hadn’t seen you in years but I’ll miss you forever.

I don’t have much profound to say. I’ll leave the profundity to the past, in your dimly-lit room, when we’d unpack the latest philosophy you’d read and I’d try, often in... more

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June 3, 2020

I only knew David professionally and only for a little over a year. He possessed an agile and creative mind and I loved our discussions on pedagogy, philosophy, and technology. He carried his substantial intellect lightly and was always so much fun to... more

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May 27, 2020 · via iPhone

I came back to the Hirst family as a nanny in September 1988 to work for a couple of months. I didn’t know that Mary was pregnant until a few months later, so I had the opportunity to be in the family when David arrived. I’m so grateful that I spent... more

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May 24, 2020 · via iPhone

❤️

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May 21, 2020

I met Dave when we were attending North Toronto in high school. We later became friends at The University of Western Ontario and kept in touch during 2017 and 2018 when I was working with him on his training plans. He was an extremely intelligent guy,... more

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May 19, 2020

Giving tribute in solace

My interpretation, time, space, connection with David would be as follows. A well refined example of a spiritual being not only seeking to have human experiences. Along the lines and in between them. Simplicity a mind capable... more

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May 18, 2020 · via iPhone

David and I were inseparable for the last few months. I’ll admit we had it short but we were very close. We shared a lot and he let me into the depths of his soul. He was this exquisite being who never stopped to inspired me with his work ethic,... more

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May 17, 2020 · via iPhone

New Years 2015.
I’m so deeply sorry for the Hirst family and their loss.

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May 17, 2020

Is it enough just to say that life is less itself and the earth is less full without him? It is hard to speak: all of my poetry evaporates--an assassin walks through my orchards. Maybe it is because I know that no incantation will bring him back. But I... moreIs it enough just to say that life is less itself and the earth is less full without him? It is hard to speak: all of my poetry evaporates--an assassin walks through my orchards. Maybe it is because I know that no incantation will bring him back. But I realize that I have to use the entire muscular activity of my language to raise this enormous catch from the depths of my memory. I guess we all have to do the work of remembering. We have to refuse to let Dave be forgotten. I loved him greatly as a friend. For a time, we were basically brothers. But time is like a subtle axe. It slowly separates us with work, obligations and new opportunities. Although we talked often, I wish I got to see Dave one last time before he passed. The last time I saw him was in 2019 and he treated me to Ramen in Toronto; we caught up, talked about life, philosophy, work and laughed about the time when he had a diabetic episode and ate the entire loaf of banana cake that my mom had baked for me.

I. A SUPREME REBEL

Dave would often tell me the most gorgeous and provocative Bataille quotes when we went for daily walks to get coffee in the morning. This one was my favourite: “The verb to be is the vehicle of amorous frenzy” (Bataille). If there is one philosopher that Dave identified with deeply, it is Bataille--the philosopher who sees truth as a “violent contradiction” and knows that nothing is “more necessary or stronger in us than rebellion.” Dave was an iridescent and passionate creature. He sunk his teeth into whatever he did--for better or for worse. Every atom of his being was electrified, mischievous and turbulent. Although Dave carried around a lot of pain, he never let it completely overcome him. He was always victorious, pregnant with laughter and resilient. Never have I met someone able to repeatedly triumph over the abyss: the abyss was a kind of trampoline for Dave, when he hit a low point it only sprung him up to new heights. I was always amazed at how quick he could transform himself--at how disciplined he was. His spirit was composed of the most gritty, most holy form of rebellion: relentless self-development. It often left me in awe. If I turned my head for just an instance, when I looked back Dave would have already undergone a brilliant metamorphosis--from stressed-out graduate student eating perogies with me on our used Ikea couch to a burgeoning software developer and brawny Buddhist living in downtown Toronto. I was so excited to see where he would go next.

II. A FLOATING BUDDHIST

“That is, to unite with the true reality of the self is the highest good” (Nishida Kitarō). After Dave meditated in the morning, we would blast Sonic Youth in the apartment, do chores and then go for our sacrosanct walks to get coffee. We did not live in time. We lived in thought, in books, in infinite conversation. We flickered between deep philosophical debate and delirious laughter. We were always laughing. We never took ourselves too seriously. At times, Dave would often go through bouts of disenchantment with philosophy: “I have become even more dubious of philosophy the more I meditate and delve into Buddhism.” Dave was mesmerized by abstraction and the labyrinthine and knotty movements of philosophy. But I think more than anything else he craved the mosaic substance of life--the true reality of the self as experience. He would always tell me he wanted to be a good person--to truly focus on, listen to and completely absorb his inner being and the being of others. Buddhism helped him achieved this. It grounded him. It centered him. It gave him access to things around him with greater awareness. It was something that enabled him to radiate with goodness, purity and generosity--qualities he always possessed but that Buddhism helped him refine. Even when he was struggling, he always tried to help others. I remember when he spent all night with me in the hospital when I had appendicitis, telling me jokes and trying to distract me from the pain, even though I kept telling him to go home to sleep.

III. A SPASMODIC INTELLECTUAL

“The splendour of the short-term idea” (Deleuze & Guattari). Dave and I changed the topics for our theses’ innumerable times. It was truly vertiginous. But that was how it was: our thought was indigenous to the spasm. We read so much. It was impossible not to be delightfully thrown in a myriad of different directions. His thesis would be on the ontology of language, then on Heidegger, then the ontology of focus, then Bataille, then Hegel, then Blanchot, then Kitarō. We were so giddy from being exposed to new ideas. We would stay up late in the kitchen sharing five bags of chips and talking about our potential thesis ideas--trying to figure it all out. In early 2016, we wrote a conference paper together called the “Micropolitics of Jazz.” It was a totally sublime and euphoric mess. It went against everything that academic papers represented. We adored it. We tried to think through jazz as a paradigm to re-model subjectivity, a “becoming-jazz” of the human organism. We presented it at Western and in Toronto. I couldn’t make it to the conference at the University of Toronto because I had class. But Dave presented it. He was so proud of it. He had the biggest smile on his face when he got back. He couldn’t stop talking about it all day afterwards: he told me that the prominent Canadian philosopher, Erin Manning, called our paper a “tour de force.”

IV. AN IMMENSE FRIEND

“No friend without the possibility of a wound” (Derrida). There was so much aliveness in Dave. Sometimes I felt like he contained multiple lives. Sometimes I was even jealous of this existential density he possessed. When I first heard the news about Dave, I was completely devastated. I wept. I haven’t cried like that for a while. It felt like something essential to me had been cut off, amputated, that someone replaced one of my organs with a whirring void. It left me with a wound. But I am beginning to realize that this wound was an intense and overwhelming feeling of love. That the wound was David himself--all the impressions he had made upon me, his impact, his friendship storming to the surface with a lacerating force. The wound was a benevolent presence and not an absence. I realize that this wound isn’t going anywhere because my love and respect for David aren’t going anywhere. I miss him so much. I wish I could be transported back to our apartment in London, to those incandescent moments of anxiety mixed with bliss when were feverishly writing papers and dancing to Drake’s “Hotline Bling” remixes, when we would walk around London talking about life and overflow with it too. less

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added 3 photo(s) to the memorial :

May 16, 2020

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May 15, 2020

Halloween 2009

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May 15, 2020

Mary, Chris, Julie, John, Veronica, Paul & kids, words cannot express how sorry we are for your loss. Please know you and your entire family are in our constant thoughts.

We will always have fond memories of David and will especially miss him at family ... more

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May 15, 2020

I first met David at Chris and Veronica's wedding up at the cottage. I think I can confidently say that it was one of the best weekends of the past decade for anyone who was able to attend such a unique and intimate weekend. I knew I'd found a buddy... more

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May 15, 2020 · via mobile

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May 15, 2020

David had such spirit - both effervescent and sometimes defiant but most of all, he had a lot of courage to deal with the ups and downs of life. We remember his spirit at hockey games, the ski club, Christmas and family gatherings. And our hearts go... more

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May 14, 2020

A very sad day for the Hirst family and your many friends. Between one thing and another David's life was not easy but his family's love supported him without hesitation or condition. RIP David. All our love to Mary, John and Susan, Chris and Veronica,... more

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May 14, 2020

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May 14, 2020 · via iPhone

Our hearts are filled with such sorrow and disbelief. To the Hirsts and to David’s friends, we are so truly sorry that he is gone. Our thoughts, hearts, and prayers are with him and with you.
Be it Grandma’s 85th birthday, Thanksgiving at the... more

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May 14, 2020

My heart aches. Truly aches. My heart also goes out to Dave's entire family. If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to reach out. I've heard so much about you and he loved you all dearly.
To be writing a condolence message for Dave is hard... more

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May 14, 2020

Dear John, Mary, Christopher and Julie,
I am so deeply sorry for your loss. Dave was my oldest friend going back to Grade 2 at Oriole Park, York Mills hockey and countless times in your swimming pool and cottage. He was truly one of a kind. His smile,... more

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May 14, 2020

Toward the end of November every year for many, Jeff and I shared Christmas craft weekend with the Hirsts. Mary and I would wait outside the school for the children to be dismissed before we headed north. When the little boy who was wearing his Santa hat... more

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May 14, 2020

Deeply saddened by such a loss.
Will continue to cherish all the beautiful moments and intricate conversations we had. Part of a poem Dave sent a few years ago,
Sweet dreams.

"...So please,
If ever we part ways,
Remember me fondly as the person I am... more