George Forss died last week in his sleep, just like he planned on doing. He always told me the aliens would take care of his death, and they would help him leave the world as he wanted to go.

He was ready to go.

George was 80 when he died, and his Brooklyn agents have prepared a beautiful memorial to him, although they did leave the aliens out of it.  They were not into the aliens, as I recall when I went to visit them.

George told me some of his early press conferences went badly when he mentioned aliens.

As he did with anyone who tried to impose authority over him, George gave his agents fits, but he and his gallery had a long and beautiful relationship.

They appreciated his artistic genius and always fought for him, even when he would not fight for himself. He loved having hotshot agents.

We are still awaiting news on the gofundme for George’s funeral; I’ll pass the URL along when it’s ready. In the meantime, George Forss lovers can check out the memorium.

I’m not mourning George because I believe he had tired of this world and all its nastiness and was ready for another. He said the aliens would come and get him when he was ready.

I think of him as circling above us in a peaceful, working on another manifesto or another book, perhaps called “The View From Above.”

George was definitely the master of his own life; he lived as he wanted and died as he wanted.

A few weeks ago, he told me he was ready to go. I don’t want to be ghoulish, but as I told him before he died, I wanted to get my hands on his old VW van; it was his official Alien Investigations car.

I will bid on it as soon as I can, after the funeral. I imagine the competition will not be stiff. George was perhaps the greatest landscape photographer in New York History.

The great photographers have all pleaded with him to tell them how he took those iconic shots of the great city. George was a generous man, but he never revealed his secrets, other than to tell me he built almost all of the cameras he used, mostly from the garbage people threw out.

There will never be another George.