I’ve never met anyone remotely like my friend George Forss, who I have come to greatly love and appreciate. George is one of the world’s most famous urban landscape photographers – he is a legend – and for various complex reasons, he moved to upstate New York after 911, and he runs small art gallery in Cambridge, N.Y. – the Ginifor – takes photographs, cares for his brother Mickey,  and loves the artist Donna Wynbrandt, who loves him back. The two care very deeply for one another and are almost inseparable.

Last week George messaged me about his new You Tube Video, The King Cobra Speaks, recounting his experience of communicating with an alien while the shadow of a King Cobra flashed across the alien’s face. It is a different kind of video than you might normally see on You Tube, but George is not conventional or ordinary in any sense of the word. His book “Enos” is an 800 page exploration of aliens and God, and George himself is a U.F.O. Investigator waiting for the big call. If you think about George’s messages, many of them speak to human greed, violence or confusion. His works also contains a lot of messages about our dysfunctional political system, and believe me, his messages from the aliens make more sense.

Last week George fell down the long and narrow staircase above his gallery and landed on a vacuum cleaner. He eventually made his way to a doctor who found he had broken his ankle in two places. The doctor told George to rest and keep his leg up, he was concerned about an infection. I brought George an omelet Sunday and some scones, and this morning, Maria and I brought George and Donna some sandwiches and fruit. George was not resting, nor did he have his leg up, he was at his computer and on Facebook having an argument about physics, flamingos and aliens with a follower. “I have some followers on Facebook now,” George confided. Okay. He was cheerful and busy.

Last year, George got an eye patch to rest one of his eyes when he is on the computer, giving him something of a Pirate demeanor when he sits by the computer.  I love many things about George. He never complains about the digital photographic revolution that supplanted him, or the attack on the World Trade Center, which ruined eleven years of hard work. He is sweet and generous to everyone, he is a wondrously brilliant photographer, I learn so much from him just by being near him and he has overcome some nearly unendurable hardships to live a full, meaningful and creative life.

George will not do what the doctors tell him, probably not ever, he and Donna have their own way of doing things. But he always seems to figure things out, he knows how to survive, he is both brave and uncomplaining. He believes that aliens are directing his life and he hopes they will arrive one day and spirit him away. He is not worried about his leg. “The doctors tell me I have a high threshold for pain,” he announced today. “No,” said Donna, “that’s what you always tell the doctors.” Oh, said George, same thing.

It breaks my heart sometimes that we live in a world where Justin Bieber has four mansions and a pet monkey and George Forss charges $30 for a portrait sitting. The world has it’s own sense of right and wrong. You will never hear George Forss complain about fate, he lives in the moment with grace, decency and passion. Sometimes I bleed a bit for him, but that is a misplaced emotion. His life is filled with love, friendship, creativity and joy, all he asks for (except maybe for an alien sighting.) His friendship is nothing but a gift to me. This week, George has agreed to set aside some time to teach me about the settings on my camera, which he understands far better than me.

I love George very much, I know he will be hobbling around town on his cast one of these days, riding around in  his U.F.O. Investigations Vehicle taking photos of the rural landscape, his new passion. I know Donna will keep a close watch on him, make sure he is fed and gets to an orthopedic surgeon.  You can see his wonderful work on New York’s Park Slope Gallery website.