Lina Dorado

I’m in disbelief… still desperate to think this is part of an elaborate prank. That seems like something he’d do, right? The truth is, no matter how desperate I am to not believe it, my friend Oliver has passed away. Oliver was such a unique soul, he had an ability that was unmatched by anyone else I know; to make friends in all corners of the world. Sincere friendship too, not just internet friendships of convenience. He was one of the funniest people I’ve ever known. His style of self-deprecation was universal. Every media appearance he’s ever done was hilarious, refreshing and unique in a way that only he could bring. He was a true artist, in every sense of the word. Everything he brought into the world, he brought with his true self. Every time he would come on our show, it would involve weeks of lengthy conversations of planning and brainstorming. Ordinary was never an option. It had to be the best possible appearance. And it always was.  Music and film were his true passions. He produced every music video, every song with every ounce of his soul. He spent every dime to bring his vision to life. He had no use for money beyond what it could do to improve his art. He used to laugh about how he annoyed his label because he was always hitting them up for cash advances for his next big project.  His support team was composed of his childhood friends, proof that he was the type of person that was fiercely loyal to those he loved. The type of genuine person that kept the same friends for life. And he was always adding more and more friends along the way. He spent the last year traveling the world. Traveling across every inch. Visiting places I would never dream of going. He wanted to know the world and all its people, all the different types of ways people lived, so he could become an even more profound artist. I could see him evolving, growing, maturing, and the essence of what he collected was clear: love, friendship, art. All the things that transcended borders and time. Last we spoke, he was planning to go to Antarctica.  “I totally get it if you can’t but it will be really special and would mean the world if you came through! Would love to see you both.” That was the last thing he ever said to me. He was having an album release party. We didn’t make it. Everything he touched was better for it. Every person he met was more whole for it. As a person, I’ve lost a dear friend and collaborator. But the real tragedy is that the world lost a true artist, a passionate and gifted story teller, and a radiant light that shined upon so many of us. His light is now extinguished and my life, and the world, is darker for it.  I hope I can be more like Oliver Tree when I grow up. Bon voyage, my friend. See you on the other side. Life goes on and on and on without you.