From a distance across an ocean, across a network, what inspired me about Chloe was her unrelenting curiosity and kindness. Through her writing I began my little hobby of making playlists every month whilst thinking about owning, as she put it, those representations of me on other services.
We exchanged a few messages between one another but I held back because I didn’t want to sound like a crazy person who was obviously infatuated with her work. However, it was strange when she replied to this gawping praise, imagine a hero of yours looking down from a stage and high-fiving you out of nowhere. Within ten seconds of conversation she would make me feel as if we were both peers or as if I was just as smart, competent and passionate as she was.
I wanted to impress Chloe because thinking that she might be on the other end of a long series of tubes and wires acknowledging my work and pointing me in the right direction, that’s nothing short of inspiring. Her presence encouraged me to write more eloquently, to sharpen my focus, and to try to return the favour. So naturally I believed that at some point in the near future, during a conference somewhere, I’d somehow manage to rustle up the courage and interrupt her – “I LOVE your work!” – though now I think she’d be much more comfortable talking about Nick Cave or yarn or POSSE than accept my compliment.
The saddest part is that I cannot say goodbye to Chloe because we never met in person. For that you’ll need to read from her close friends like Jeremy or Andy:
Chloe Weil tasted words. She was vulnerable to rich emotional experiences in the summertime. She hated her birthday, and she hated surprises. She had a cat named FACE that was famous on Reddit for a day. She helped us listen to songs traveling across the stars.