I first met Greg Owens at a Riverside house show in July 2009. He was huddled on the floor by my feet producing the most cursed sound with a guitar/pedals, a sound that still haunts me. Later I found him standing alone in the front yard, eating Pringles out of the tube, I was smitten. We were both scorpios. He got me into Maxine Nightingale and abusing Our Daily Red. He and his girlfriend would speak to each other in a cockney accent. He looked like Cillian Murphy, but greasier. I called him Grease Murphy. He would write bizarre phrases on the whiteboard in my apt, like "Glass Dog," accompanied by grotesque sketches of the creatures that inhabited his mind. We stayed in contact after we both left Jacksonville. I accompanied him on keys opening for Russian Tsarlag at a St. Augustine CD Warehouse in 2011, for an audience of 3 people. He brandished a large knife and played drums on a cover of Hey Jude at a Surface show in Gainesville in 2016. He was prone to paranoid episodes, and would occasionally disappear. He disappeared for good in 2018. I still call his phone and check the Gainesville obituaries regularly. I loved him.
A drawing I commissioned from him in 2016. I think I told him to draw us burning in Hell, with demon monsters in the background. Notice the detailed linework in the flames. I recently discovered the original copy of this in a briefcase, I don't know how it got there, I don't remember him mailing it to me nor have I seen him in person since he made it. He scribbled this note on the back:
This is some promo art he drew for A V, probably sometime around 2016 as well. I believe thats me lying in a puddle of my own blood. He never sent me a high res scan.
The night I met Greg
