She would have been consumed only by the absolute beauty of the moment.

If she’d had one regret, maybe, it was that she hadn’t paid someone to film it.

WHILE I WAS WRITING and researching the book, both Lincoln Reed and Zachary Fratepetro were subjects of ongoing criminal investigation with regard to any culpability in the death of Addison Stone. At the time of this publication, Addison’s death was ruled an accident. Both young men have since been cleared, and all charges against them dropped.

All artists aspire to a kind of immortality. Like Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring, Dash Snow, and Francesca Woodman, Addison Stone now seems marked for both death and deity—we see her name and we feel its weight. And yet I hope this narrative has sparked an intimate sense of Addison’s life, filled with more scorching creativity than most of us will ever get to experience, even as we cherish, mourn, and remain riveted by her legacy.

Photograph of Addison Stone by Francisco Marin for ReLive arts magazine.



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