He was fourteen when we first met. “I’ve been thinking about changing my name from River Phoenix to Rio—like Sting.” “Or like Charo,” I mused ironically. He must have dropped the idea.

We worked together frequently and each session produced a new reincarnation: River the coy toy boy, River the environmentalist, River the musician, River the maniac, River the dark prince... But they all carried the same untamed covert energy. He was always expressive but camouflaged—always available but capable of bolting.