Missing You, Phil

Philip Charles Miller ~ Nov. 5, 1944 – Sept. 25, 2024 ~ He was a good man.

I got a call from Phil’s Sister, Carol, informing me that he died alone in his modest home in Tucson a few days earlier. Phil had on-going health challenges for years, and the cause of his death will probably never be known. Below is a  photo of my 2 very best friends. Phil will be sorely missed.

We visited Phil many times and enjoyed him touring us around his beautifully maintained property. He took such pride integrating native plants into his landscape, with sensitively placed items from his “found objects” collection  scattered about.

To keep his memory alive, I’ve poured through my notes and galleries and have linked to items of interest that portray Phil’s full, artistic life. Included are dispatches from past visits.

Here’s a precious 3-minute recording of Phil narrating his search for understanding. What a treasure hearing his voice.

THE PHOTO GALLERY – Brian Russell and Phil Miller, neighbors in the 70’s. CLICK THIS IMAGE TO VIEW MANY MORE PHOTOS COMPILED IN A GALLERY.

Mary Jo, a dear friend and neighbor from our Arlington Apartment days in 1970’s Pasadena, wrote:

Dear Phil,

Phil’s signature graced many lovely, useful item. This bowl has served us for 45 years.

A lifetime has passed, but each time we drifted in and out of each other’s lives it was as if no time had passed since our last visit. I’ll always remember our young innocent days of laughter and shared experiences at Arlington. To this day when I make your brown rice and veggie casserole I think of you! As I take a sip from the beautiful wine goblets you made me I toast your creativeness. You were truly a gifted, gentle, wise soul. One of the special ones. You will be missed by many. Your old friend, Mary Jo.

She closed with an Irish saying, “Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal”.

I Remember When…

✓ In 1965, Phil and I had one final hurdle in our desire to become members of Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity. All the pledges were parked outside a hall of some sort, in the pouring rain, waiting to be summoned for the BIG TEST of our worthiness. We sat on the spacious bench seat of his ’57 Ford station wagon, a surf buggy, tossing questions from our pledge manual back and forth while intermittently speculating—to the accompaniment of hysterical laughter—about how much of this ritual was bogus or for real. While our tenure with SAE was brief, we remained brothers forever. (Nick)

✓ In 1970 Phil and I were roommates in my parents’ house in La Cañada while they were traveling. There were actually 3 of us, since Fred, his dog, ate almost as much as we did. I was in my first year of teaching and enrolled in an adult ceramics class for fun. Phil joined me on occasion, enjoying getting his hands dirty working the wheel. Look what that led to! (Nick)

✓ I remember walking a trail in the Sonoran desert among the towering Saguaros with Nick and Phil. It was a warm morning under a clear blue desert sky and Phil reminded us to be on the lookout for rattlesnakes. He pointed his walking stick at where they might be coiled beneath a desert shrub. We walked along the sandy trail and suddenly Phil jumped with a shout and leaped behind me as a shield. A long thick rattlesnake crossed our path and soon disappeared under an expansive cholla. We all got a good laugh at how Phil could NOT be trusted as a He-Man protector—around snakes! (Sooney)

❤️ Philip and Nancy: 1988-2024: 36 years of loving connection.Friends…Companions…. Lovers….Partners.Post-partner friends….. Supporters of each other…. Confidants.Always staying in touch with each other through phone calls, hand-written cards and letters, texts (last one in August).Recently sharing the many nighttime dreams we had been having about each other that were warm and healing for us both.Yes, we needed to reside in different climates and landscapes, true, yet our hearts and souls were always connected. In the early hours of the morning of September 26th, at 3:55 AM, warm and cozy in bed, I suddenly bolted straight up with my eyes wide open. I felt what I thought was a very short trembling earthquake and I noted the time so that I could listen to the news to hear if indeed we had had one. Before I laid back down I saw a tiny quick flash like a firefly. When Nick and Sooney told me the approximate day that Philip had died I was so grateful that maybe he had made one last connection with me. I’ve chosen several photos of our years together, from 1988 to 2011, the last in-person visit. (Visit the Phil Miller Photo Gallery)

As Nick and Sooney said,  Philip was a good man, indeed. ❤️ (Nancy Adams)

✓ I’ve enclosed a couple of photos of Phil at the Sun Valley Center where he was always a sparkling light . He once did a project at the Center to make and send small clay boats down the Trail Creek which I thought was nuts since clay doesn’t  float very well. But Phil was convinced and so we had a great launching ceremony for a colorful flotilla of small artistically attired vessels each with a note onboard expressing aspirations of reaching the Pacific and a return address in case they did.  We all had a good laugh and another beer and went back to the studio.   Lo and behold two weeks later Phil got a note from someone downstream and a picture or a battered clay boat!  Phil was always sending out hope! (Jim Romberg)

I’m just writing to thank you for the tribute/obituary you posted for Phil  Miller. Phil was a huge part of my teens, and although we haven’t been in close contact, I think of him often. One of his pieces, a gift from him, hangs in my house, and other pieces hang just outside my door. These last pieces he made for his MFA show at UT San Antonio, all those years ago! I still have a strong memory of that show. The point is that he was part of my life and is still part of my life.

Phil was one day older than me, and it was my intention to call him in early November to wish him happy birthday and to catch up on his news. I should have done that last year.

If you find among his things contact info for Ben Martinez, I’m sure Ben would be grateful to learn this sad news. Phil, Ben, and I were the “Altadena contingent” at St. Francis, from the other side of the tracks so to speak, or more accurately from across the Arroyo.

Once again, thank you for letting me know. Now I have some mourning to do… (Tom Vessely)

Phil- stepdad, friend, thank you for the memories, from childhood in Santa Fe, visits to Seal Beach in young adulthood, and your ongoing companionship in the years beyond. Albuquerque Dukes baseball games, New Mexico Lobo bball games at The Pit, Dodgers games, Six Flags roller coasters, surfing, and much more. Most of all, thank you for your lifetime of love and support for my Mom, and my late brother. We last saw each other in Tucson, laughed and cried together, and had a big hug. Rest Peacefully, amigo.  With Love- Dan

My Friend, Phil Miller

Classic Phil with long-time friend, Pam Haworth.

I had taken my seat along with the other students on the first day of an art history class at Sonoma State University in Northern California. It was the start of the Fall Semester in 1977. As the class was about to commence, a late arrival made his way to the empty seat beside me. This was my first encounter with Phil Miller. Who would have predicted that we would share a friendship for the next forty-six years?

I came to understand that Phil was auditing the class so he could hang out with his girlfriend, who was seated in the adjacent row.

In the late seventies, Phil was teaching a couple of ceramic classes at Sonoma State. I was enrolled there in the art program working on my B.A. in printmaking. Within a few days of meeting, we became good friends. I met his girlfriend and I also met Frida, Phil’s beloved black Labrador mix. The girlfriend was history within a few months, but the dog was a constant presence in his life.

While working at Sonoma State, Phil made good use of the ceramics studio. At one point Phil had secured the promise to show his work at a small gallery in Glen Ellen, a few miles from the campus. Typical of Phil, he put off producing the work until the very last minute, and then it was a rush to create work for the show. He did a couple of all-nighters, throwing, glazing and firing his pieces. I hung out with him for many of those hours, heading out occasionally for sandwiches and beers.

The night before the show opened, Phil asked if we could use my van to transport the pieces from the studio to the gallery. We had to use gloves to move the pottery into the van for the drive to the gallery since they were fresh out of the kiln and hot as blazes. I remember how we laughed as the pieces clinked while they cooled during the drive. I don’t recall how successful the show was. I know that everyone had a great time and I still have several of those works in my collection. They are a treasure Pam and I hold dear.

Phil moved to Sun Valley, Idaho in the spring of 1980 to work at the Sun Valley Art Center. That summer, my friend Paul and I headed off for a road trip and a visit with Phil. Arriving in Sun Valley, we were amazed at the world we had entered into. The place was awash with beautiful young women at every turn. It was great to see Phil in his element, the quintessential bachelor with a string of female admirers at his beck and call. One evening we watched as Phil prepared for a date. It was a beautiful thing to behold. Phil had a cigar box in which he placed the following:

A hand pressed flower
A small book of poetry
Two cassette tapes with selected music
A perfectly rolled joint and the assorted paraphernalia
And one last essential item…..
A tiny bottle of Binaca Breath Freshener

Phil always covered his bases well. (Tim Haworth)

I spent some time viewing the photographs and narrative of your visits with Phil, reflecting on his creative dedication, quick smile, sense of humor, and generous heart. He was a gentleman and a good person through and through. 

It was 50 years ago that I met him outside the ceramics studio that he shared with Rollie Younger on Mission & Meridian, quite by accident.  He was so kind to let me learn and do some work there – unbeknownst to him, at a very tough time.

He was teaching at the time and he shared Maslow’s Heirarchy of Needs self-actualization model with me at the perfect moment.  It lit a light in me that I am forever grateful for.  And, I have shared it with many in the last 50 years, always grateful for the knowledge and for Phil sharing his light with me. 

Please convey my condolences to Phil’s family. His life touched mine deeply. 

Grateful and blessed, Donna Wong

❤️ Tomorrow, November 5, would have been Philip’s 80th birthday. For countless years he and I performed the ritual of calling each other first thing on our birthdays, June and November, and singing or playing the opening lines of the old soul song from 1958, “16 Candles” by the Crests. When the other person answered the phone we would immediately start singing or playing “Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, baby, Oh, I love you so….16 candles……” I was delighted this last June when I answered my phone in the morning and heard Philip say very officiously, “Please hold,” and then played those opening lines on his computer while I grinned from ear to ear! One of those sweet little rituals that mean so much. (Nancy Adams)