David Herman’s studio stirred as friends slowly walked around. Large windows cast light onto colorful paintings — some hung on the walls, others propped like dominoes. After his death last month, no one knows what will become of the space.

“It felt like the last walk,” said Sandy Woods, who used to spend endless days painting and socializing at Herman’s Grey Matter Art Space.

Herman created the studio decades ago, inside the Cork Factory in Baltimore’s Station North neighborhood. He lived there and hosted free events, from tango lessons to group painting — a community that became family, Woods said.

Herman, 58, was struck by a car while cycling July 4 on Ensor Street in East Baltimore, a few blocks from the studio. He died shortly after.

On a recent Sunday, about 200 people gathered at nearby art center Area 405 to honor Herman, known to many as Dave. Photos of him hung on the wall where guests arrived, vibrant tables adorned with flowers scattered the room and a slideshow on a back wall. Afterward, a few friends returned art to the Grey Matter studio.

Friends characterized Herman as someone who was deeply passionate, inspired others to make art, and loved the outdoors. They also said his openness made it easy to feel like family.

Chris Herman, his older brother by ten months, said Dave was always an artist. Their father loved to create art, as did Chris — but Dave was the only one with the patience to pursue art as a career, he said.

Herman created everything from portraits to abstract art that exploded with splashes of color. He also was an amazing guitar player, said friend Michelle Spiziri, and he had “too many ideas to realize.”

Herman was born February 13, 1967, and grew up in Lutherville with his mother and older brother, Chris. He graduated from Towson High School in 1985, and attended the Maryland Institute College of Art.

“He was loving and affectionate, even as a baby and toddler and little boy,” said Beth Engel, his aunt.

Herman also worked as a bartender at the Brass Elephant, which closed in 2009. He spent the days before his death camping on Assateague Island — a trip he had taken with friends each year since 2021. He loved to swim and surf, and spent many days canoeing through Prettyboy Reservoir in Baltimore County.

Victoria Mathew, who went with Dave on yearly Assateague trips with her family, said he dove into the water like a merman. Once, when a horse tried to take his water bottle, he tugged back on it with one hand while holding a fish taco in the other.

Doug Cooke and Craig Chapline went to high school with Herman, and at the recent celebration of his life and art they shared old stories, laughing. Cooke recalled that every morning a line of people filed behind Herman’s locker, waiting for him to forge slips to get them out of school.

Herman was a trendsetter, but he was also “too cool to talk about it,” Cooke said. He was the funniest person in their high school group, Chapline said.

Taggart Brown, also a part of Herman’s high school friend group, said Herman had a dry sense of humor. After graduating from high school in 1985, the two moved to Ocean City, where they spent their days working at a local restaurant, surfing and chatting as if they had “solved the world’s problems,” Brown said.

When the pair hosted parties, Herman drew flyers packed with doodles in a matter of minutes.

About an hour into the event, attendees filtered into a back room that featured several of Herman’s paintings — a few with a mashing of colors, and one of a golden sunset titled, “There is Nothing Outside of You.” Woods led a meditation before friends took turns talking about Herman.

“He’s with us,” said Woods, who wore a blue bandana and shell necklace. “Each breath is a reminder that love never ends.”

A self-portrait of Herman stood in the corner, next to an altar where attendees dropped mementos — most notable were the cheese and crackers (his favorite snack), flowers, and a can of LaCroix sparkling water.

Doreen Bolger, retired director of the Baltimore Museum of Art, said Herman “celebrated the appearance of our city,” and had an “original way of weaving together these expressive paintings.”

Many friends said Herman helped deepen their appreciation of art or encouraged them to pursue making it.

“He definitely showed me that I can make art,” said Aaron Smith, who would often hang out and paint at Grey Matter. “That I’m as worthy as anyone.”

Kristin Fuller, one of the event’s organizers, said she met Herman 10 years ago at an art show. They both “saw the magic in art,” and she remembered their childlike excitement at a Joan Mitchell show at the Baltimore Museum of Art.

“We connected from here,” Fuller said, patting her stomach. “I don’t know how to put that into words.”

It’s unclear what will happen with the studio, Smith said. His memorial was the first time the community had reunited since his death.

On Thursday, several of Herman’s friends gathered at Ensor Street, where they decorated a bike as a memorial, held hands in a circle and told stories.

Chris Herman said he had spent the last week sorting through his brother’s paintings. His brother was passionate and had trouble putting a price on his art, he said.

He didn’t create anything for the sake of recognition, Chris said. It was just all about his passion for art which drove him.