I met Emily a few years ago. She and her fiance, Flippo, were some of my first friends in Austin. They had moved from Iowa, and I have family in Iowa, so I felt an immediate bond with them.
We also shared an appreciation of ’60s soul music — we’d go dancing at the Second Sunday Sock Hop or just hang out and play records.
The thing about going dancing with Emily — or being at a party — or swimming at Barton Springs — or doing just about anything with her — was that she always had her camera.
She was serious about her art, without being snobbish. She was daring. She had guts. She had style. She had determination and vision. Last year, she took a 10-week study abroad trip to Japan, Korea, Malaysia, and Thailand. I remember thinking how lucky she was, and how much she deserved every minute of the adventure she was about to embark on. She was just that kind of person — kind, generous, funny, sweet — and a complete and total badass.
Tomorrow there will be a musical celebration of Emily’s life. I can’t be there in person, but I wanted to send my love to all her family and friends. I once saw Emily play her cello at a Leonard Cohen “hoot night,” so when I heard of her passing, this song came to mind.