Simon Cheung

A high school English teacher once said, ‘if you come across one person in your life you can consider a true friend, you would be very lucky’. Simon was that person. He was so very likeable and easy going. He had great character, integrity, he was down to earth, with a great silly and sometimes twisted sense of humour. He was also serious, opinionated, a confidant, an advisor and shoulder to lean on. Above all, he was honest, truthful, caring and genuinely interested in you as a person and saw you for who you are. I’ve known Simon since grade 9. Woodlands secondary school was a storm of positive and not so positive energy and experiences. Art class and the year book club kept us sane when the rest of the world felt like it was going to swallow us whole. We would talk a lot about our future. One day he brought into art class a hard cover book called 'Industrial Light & Magic: The Art of Special Effects by Thomas G. Smith' and said, “Guys, wouldn’t it be great to work for this company?” A foreshadowing moment. Simon was fun to be around and positive. He always saw the light in people and did his best to cheer you up when you felt down. Food always cheered us up. Fish and chips with ketchup and gravy, cream filled chocolate donuts and Coffee Crisp chocolate bars! One day after school we got ourselves each a Big Mac, cheeseburger and a footlong sub. We could barely move after that. The food coma came soon after. Simon favourite quote from his dad when he, Naysan and Maria couldn’t finish their dinner was “Ok. Just eat the meat”. That night we did. Good times. We hung out at each other’s houses a lot, went malling at Square One, nights out at the movies, introduced me to Andrew Loyd Webber, got me into LEGO and often attributed it for helping him hone his technical artistic side. His build of the ED-209 from Robocop was simply amazing! We both had an idea of where we wanted to study after high school and got accepted into Sheridan College. We were lucky to be in the same class for those three years. There were of course all nighters for many of our classes. Sometimes at the school in the common work areas, the cafeteria or just toughing it out at home till the wee hours of the morning working on our second even third version of our projects … and we still had class when we were done. We had challenges in class and outside class that tested us but we always pushed through supporting each other along the way. Met great people who we stayed in-touch with well after graduation. “A joy to behold and a beauty forever.” After graduation I found work as a graphic designer while Simon stayed back to take Computer Animation. He worked at Caliber for a time before applying for a position at Industrial Light and Magic. He was accepted, left Canada for the US and from there he became a 3D hard surface artist. Dream realized. White water rafting, bungee jumping, Land Rover enthusiast, photographer, train collector, world traveler and snowboarder. Simon met life head on often by himself but he was ok with that. For 41 years we emailed, video called or message each other. Rita and I visited Simon in 2000 and he showed us around San Fransisco and took us to Skywalker Ranch. It was such an amazing experience. We would talk about everything from old friends, new friends, family, movies he’s worked on and working on, the places he travelled to, the past, present and future of where we see ourselves. I said to him that maybe I should have stayed single a bit longer so I could do the things that he did, travel, experience life differently. He would say to me he would love to be in my position and have a wife and family to look after, support and love. It saddens me that he never realized that particular dream. He was great with kids and great around them. He was uncle to my daughter Arianna and an inspiration and mentor to her as she pursued an Illustration career. His passing was especially hard for her. Someone told me once to not regret too much in life and try not to have too many regrets. There were no regrets with Simon, save one. I wished I spent more in-person time with him. He would always make it a point to tell me he’s coming back home to see his family and set some bro time aside to spend with him. There was always dinner with a slab of meat and great conversations that would often go late into the night. He made me feel special and I’m a better person to have known him. Simon, I will miss you deeply. You were the best man at my wedding, an uncle and mentor to my daughter and I’m very lucky and honoured to have known you. Where ever you are, I hope you have pristine slopes to snow board on and huge sand dunes to drive over in your pimped up Land Rover. New people to meet and become friends with and travel to new and wonderful lands. Thank you for all the time we spent together talking, laughing, and eating. I have been, and always shall be your friend.

I met Simon at Sheridan College - 34 years ago now... but seems like yesterday. As Neil eloquently recalled, we came to share an office at ILM, and many hijinx ensued. Have to say, working alongside Simon and the the team made the days go by swiftly with many laughs in between the deadlines. In the years to follow, we would share adventures and more laughs, and good food... lots of good food. Some time passed but our paths crossed from time to time, but wherever we met in the world it was like picking up as no time at passed. And always a fun time was had, even just exploring and goofing about. One thing I must say, he always made you feel young when he was around. Simon loved being in the world, and had a joyful curiousity- seeing machines in particular as a puzzle to solve and create either in miniature, or for big budget films- which he did brilliantly. So it's fitting that the image that comes to mind to share is from a visit he made here in Montreal a couple of years back, from the train museum. In his element, with that beaming smile of his. It's hard to think of a world without you Simon. I miss you.

I met Simon as an early teen. I was "too cool", and he thought it was hilarious, poking at me until my quills softened. I had been attempting to abandon my kiddy nickname “Jojo” for some time by then; “Who holds their fork like that anyway?” I would tease. He would reply, incredulous, “What!? This is the best technique for shoveling food into your mouth, Ojoj.” When most adults tried to ignore a phase that included ultra-thick black eyeliner, he told me he had a CD he thought I would like, and we listened to “I’m Only Happy When It Rains” by Garbage on full blast while hurling ahead on a dusty red trail in the Defender. On the morning of our first trip to Tahoe, he watched me fumble with and bemoan my skis and had me gliding down the mountain on a snowboard that afternoon. Since those days, I’m used to seeing black-and-white photos and blue-ink line drawings on paper napkins in my mother’s home. They're like tokens of the installations that Simon built, as if adding a few LEGO bricks to my adolescence. Before I met Simon, I kept everything on my plate separated, eating it in a counter-clockwise procedure. After I met Simon, no matter the time of day, I wanted the plate swimming in hollandaise sauce, and I stacked a morsel from each item onto every forkful. Like many others, he introduced me to Franchino in San Francisco. I remember dancing with an intoxicated Franchino as his wife rolled her eyes, telling him to let me go, with Simon smiling and laughing from the table. Years later, I was at the same restaurant looking down at my future husband on one knee, and Simon's grin was still there, this time looking out from the photo that hung on the wall showing off his empty plate. This wonderful photo is of Simon in true form at my wedding. As I walked down the aisle, I looked up to see him in his leather shoes, up a tree, and giving me a sheepish grin. Simon, as usual, was capturing intimate, unscripted moments of our family and guests. The photos he snapped with the camera in hand became some of our most cherished from the celebration, and were included in every one of our thank-you letters to guests, who were blown away by the thoughtfulness of the images. Again, Simon was bringing attention to the connection we share together in moments (much like all the dinners with a GoPro attached to a nearby window), which was perhaps the best gift we received from that day, and was the gift he gave to a vast web of an international community where he occupied the center. Simon, I will miss our laugh-filled dinners, receiving artful cards covered in your bold text print, and endless funny faces. Thank you for making moments bigger. Echoes of your broad and joyous voice are cherished in my memory, Josephine

Oh, Simon. I miss you already. I wanted to write something for your page, but words can't articulate what a special human you were. You will forever be in my heart inspiring me to spread joy, light and humor like you so effortlessly did. Simon and I met in 2014. We spent many of our early days endlessly chatting over long brunches that, of course, included extra hollandaise sauce. Once I remember him rubbing his belly telling the waitress that he needed an extra side of sausage to feed the “sausage baby” he was growing. The waitress and I both laughed, he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. To be fair, we would take long walks after said brunches to burn it off. Over these meals though, Simon and I talked, laughed, cried, mused, plotted imaginary silly agendas. I loved his wicked sense of humor. There was also no subject that was taboo. We chatted about EVERYTHING. TMI’s were everywhere. But no matter what we talked about, he always stayed on the positive side. If there was something he wanted to do or if I was facing something that seemed impossible, Simon would get to work, his mind going into the kind of detail most people can’t fathom and out would pop a remedy and a funny anecdote. He was brilliant. These were his superpowers. When I think of Simon now, the word "clarity" comes to mind. There was never any question of his goodness. He was just a true bright light. He became a distant part of my family who all loved him even making special trips to Napa when my father was sick before he passed. After, Simon took my mom out for a day trip to cheer her up. Of course, he sent me pictures throughout the day to mark their progress. I think he did a fine job. I've included one of the pictures he took of them below. When the dust settles, I know I’ll still be able to hear his funny words spoken in that made-for-radio-voice of his. His laugh and sense of humor will be there too. He called me “Sunshine” when all the while, I should have been calling him that. I see him making a quirky face at this thought, but that’s what he was. Love you my dear friend. I’ll keep you with me.

While I can never hope to match either Neil's stories or his epic buffooneries with Simon, I will say that to me Simon felt like a brother from another mother. With our shared background of Persian mothers, Persian cooking, Persian sayings and sounds, as well as Legos, Mad Magazine, Ren and Stimpy, etc, we never ran out of things to talk about. It was always a blast having 2 hour Skype video calls (until the laptop battery died) and talking about Maya Python scripting, our 3D CAD project that we were starting out on, and how to (and how not to) make Persian kebabs. I was so lucky to have come to his place for the first time last year, and he drove us in his Men In Black car to a breakfast place in San Rafael. I can confirm his love of Hollandaise sauce on our eggs. The night before we met up at Maykadeh in SF, with Indira and Tim. When he walked in, it was like Norm from Cheers. He was well known there. He looooved their kebabs, which I thought were good, but not earth shattering. His enthusiasm for everything around him was a joy to be around. He rarely swore and his humor was always positive, and never put anyone down. The closest he ever came to calling me an idiot was when asked him: "Simon, I know one of your parents is Persian, and the other Chinese, but which is which?" He looked at me and said: "Think about it"........(last name is a clue). He could have raked me over the coals and razzed me, but didn't. I miss him dearly, he was one of a kind. There will never be another Simon.

Oh Simon! I still can’t process my feelings about your death. I don’t want to add any more grief to others by sharing mine here but it feels weird not to contribute anything to your tribute page. You have been a beacon of light & joy in my life ever since you started at Calibre Digital Design in Toronto in 1992 right out of Sheridan College. It’s always been impossible to think of you without smiling. Your stopovers at our place in Oregon on your way to/from CA or Vancouver are such joyful memories. You and Ian eating your “full English” breakfasts at Kingsland Kitchen are indelibly imprinted on my brain. You left us with a beautiful WhatsApp video message just this past Christmas Eve and then you were gone before we even had a chance to send you one in return. We love you. And we thank you for being wonderful you and always bringing so much joy and happiness wherever you went. You are loved all over the world. Your parents were very proud of you. Together, they created the most wonderful gift for the rest of us to enjoy, thank you Peter & Pari. Miss you deeply Simon. Love, Cindy & Ian P.S. “Good then!” xoxoxoxo

I have to laugh at all the stupid, dumb shit Simon and I would get up to. We were both young Canadian kids exploring life in California. Living, and learning things as we experienced it. There are 2 stories that stand out. While I will eventually find pictures. The story is better than any photo evidence can provide. I have no idea what year it was, but was early into our time in California. I am not even sure if I was at ILM at that time, but he and I always hung out the years before that. We came up with what we thought was a brilliant Canadian idea: to become "ballers" and take our first summer trip together to Las Vegas. Many of you who haven't experienced Las Vegas in the summer may not appreciate just how brutally hot it can be. Like I said... we "thought" we would be cool and bring our "Dress Suits" in the fucking Vegas summer. Neither of us had ever been to Vegas before, and we'd watched far too many James Bond movies and “Casino” films. We arrived and checked into our swanky hotel (The Palace Station - a SHITHOLE) off the strip. It was a balmy 100 degrees at midnight. 114° in the day and hotter than Satan's ass crack. Neither of us EVER wore those suits. We laughed so hard at how silly we were. Thinking we would be cool and instead needed to stay cool. We also had no money. Gambling was foreign to us, and thinking we would drop $100/day was “rich”. One evening Simon and I were mesmerized watching this gentleman with a STACK of $1000.00 Pink chips adding up to maybe 50-100k playing Blackjack. He was playing 2 hands at a time, with about 5k per hand. We were shocked as we watched him spend thousands up and down in minutes. I think I was more enamored with is Girlfriend “or special” friend. She looked as expensive as the hands he was playing. What an incredible trip, lots of great laughs and fond memories of our first time there. Idiots. The next one that many don’t realize as it was something inside ILM. Simon, Izzy, Tim and I shared an office in ILM Commercials for several years together. Our room was somewhat of a hub. All of us had a blast and spent more time together than one would with a significant other. Simon was brough onto Star Wars: Episode 1 – the Phantom Penis in 1999. With the enhanced security and the reality that everyone that was at ILM (would give their left nut to be on that movie as after all) that is why most of us dorks were there. Due to Simon being a part of the project early. We had to change security access to our office. The 4 of us had to get new badges to access our room, as there were several “top Secret models” on his desk or in the room. Well one of the models Simon was tasked to build was the “Battle Droid” used extensively in that film. The ILM Model shop made a maquette of that for him to model. I believe it was the only one. One day I went to see what he was doing. I picked up the model and no sooner than Simon says “Be careful with that” I fucking dropped it. It shattered in a ton of pieces. I nearly shit myself and I recall him yelling at me “What did you do?” There was no way I could fix it. He was like "You have to come to tell them what happened". We had to go together to SW1 Production to explain the situation. I for sure thought I was going to get fired on the spot! Simon was nervous, but I was the one that fucked it up… well they were not happy. To say the least. No idea what went on behind the scenes… but I was banned from touching anything again. If you could see his face when it fell out of my hands. I think I was too busy watching this one-of-a-kind model slip in slow motion and hitting his desk and breaking apart. Too funny now… not in the moment. For over 4 years we shared an office together from 1997/8 to 2001. So many laughs and memories. Good times, great friends.

Simon always made it a point to see me and the family whenever he was in Vancouver. He also lived here for a few months, and made it up to Whistler a few times to enjoy the pow. Always full of conversation and jokes around the dinner table. He was a great talent and an amazing cousin I looked up to. Always hoped for more downhill speed runs. Miss you Cousin! Some pictures with him and the family.

Here’s a great photo from when we first moved to New Zealand, Christmas 2006, and another where we are Zorbing on the North Island on our Christmas 2006 trip together. And lastly, here's Simon at his favorite restaurant in Wellington, Nicolini’s. It was this incredible Italian owned spot where we frequented for a great meal. They also had the best steaks in town. We went so much they grew to know us there. This is from 2010.

Simon was my sister’s friend - I met him when he and Kim worked together at their first animation job in Toronto after college. As sisters do, I would drop in to the studio to see her and meet her friends. But no surprise, it was Simon’s over-the-top joy, humour, hilarity and kindness that stood out - and I felt blessed to be included in his wide circle. Through the years, during many many visits to my sister in California, I was always overjoyed to catch up with Simon. Not surprisingly, these meetings were often over good food, with lots of talk, and lots of laughter that never stopped. Simon always said that with Kim and I on either side of him, talking and laughing, it was like listening to us in stereo. Declared with delight. This photo captures one of those moments. I miss you Simon - you will be a bright light in my life forever. Thanks for sharing your joy with me too. Xoxo

I can't contemplate a world without this delight of a human being in it. My buddy Simon came into my life 33 years ago during our early days working in animation in Toronto. We bonded over the work, stomping around the studio to Rage Against The Machine to keep ourselves awake while burning the midnight oil, our mutual love of food, and laughing hysterically over just about anything. We lived down the street from each other in High Park (I helped him move into his first apartment) and would meet for late night hot chocolates when we couldn't sleep. We followed each other to California where we continued our deep friendship both inside and outside our work at ILM. He truly, as my friend Trish said to me, felt like my "brother from another mother". 22 years ago he told me that my baby girl needed to be born on his birthday. I said no way, but she obviously agreed since she was two weeks overdue and duly arrived on his birthday, November 13. The photos he later captured of me and my baby girl are some of my absolute favourites. He adored his friends and family around the world, and they adored him right back. It was always a good day, a Simon day, when we managed to make time for lunch or a walk or even just a quick call. Simon, I love you so much, buddy. I miss you terribly and wish you hadn't left so soon. I remember how much you loved snowboarding from the get go, and am grateful that you went out on the slopes you loved. I'll remember you forever. x

If any of you really knew Simon, you knew he loved his food. A LOT. Steaks. Sausages. Sauces. Did I mention sausages? Going out for a nice dinner was one of the things he loved most in life, followed very closely by going out for a nice brunch. The more artery-clogging it was, the more he loved it! Most of you probably enjoyed a meal with him at some point. Whether it was Marin Joe's, House of Prime Rib in San Francisco, Lawry's in Vegas, Moe's in Oakville , Persian restaurants anywhere, or any number of other fine eating establishments, Simon got to know the owners, chefs, and most of the staff at these places. These places treated him like family. He never held back on sauces. Sauce on his steak. Sauce on his eggs. You name it, he put sauce on it. Ultimately, I think it was the never-ending steaks, sausages and sauces that did him in, but man did he enjoy it! Next time you have a steak or go for brunch, think of Simon!

We have known each other forever. Meeting at Sheridan College in Computer Animation, to our adventures moving to California and beyond. We were always up for an adventure. When you have a friendship for 35 years, this is a very tough pill to swallow. There have been many moments recently where I go to call, or think we have not spoken in some time. I will always still talk to you brother. Simon, Izzy, Tim and I shared an office in ILMCP (Industrial Light & Magic Commercial Productions) for over 4 years together. He and I lived in the same building in San Rafael. We'd walk in together, ride our mountain bikes together. Vacation and more. Man we just did a lot of fun and dumb shit all the time. This photo is so funny as I wouldn't wear, or own Blue Jeans that bright today. Or Black 'n Blue day. We were all just kids creating the most insane work of our lives and having a blast together. Those early days at ILM were so special, created bonds with the other Canadians, and friends from around the world that are still solid today. Not a day goes by were you don't come to mind my friend. I feel robbed of many years of more dumb shit and adventure. I am so glad to have met you and had such a friendship of a lifetime. I miss you brother.