A poem for our dearest Dragos  

To have met him once was enough for his warmth and his pure aura to hypnotise your heart and mind. A gentle soul who seemed like he had lived a thousand lives and yet he remained as he was, a beautiful butterfly fluttering away as he watched the world pass him by. He harmed nothing in his path but perhaps often swept the dust and debris away so others could pass. Compassionate and composed and too special for this dysfunctional world.

So I say to you my friend the wings you have found are yours to keep and only truly belong to you, soar through the realms and drift into our slumber, before we feel the roaring weight and echoing of thunder. The void you left within our hearts still aches and pulls us under.

We close our eyes and begin to wonder, where could you be now, in the garden of Eden or the paradise of gods,

Wherever you may be, we know you’ve finally found where you belong,

for this world was only ever a place you passed through, a gentle stop along your journey, until you were called home.

By Sol Sabet 

Thank you for bringing the rays of sunshine through these grey clouds. We know your sendings us signs from above thank you for being in our lives. 

My deepest condolences to the family, if it wasn’t for my brother Said I would have never met our wonderful Dragos, each visit to Toronto  from  when I was 12 years old was filled with wonderful conversations and stories that allowed me to dream! 

Forwarded from    Lorena Matute ( Buenos Aires)

 Hi Mike ...I just found out last night.

I'm sending you my deepest condolences  and everyone in your family.

I really and truly cared for your brother. He was an amazing person.

I'll always miss him 😭

Forwarded From Ovidiu Petrascu:

Dragos Gorun was my cousin, but we grew up like brothers. I will always cherish the memory of our childhood years and of our long, adventuresome summers in our grandparents’ courtyard in Romania. His life overseas, in Canada, never destroyed that strong bond. Whenever he visited Romania, we always spent time together as if we had never parted. He was always the first to reach out on our birthdays and celebrations and he would always keep us updated on his life and professional achievements, so that, even if the distance between us was physical, it was never spiritual.

We will always remember his kind-heartedness and his profoundly introspective spirit.

Rest in peace, dear Dragos!

Sincere condolences to the family!

Ovidiu Petrascu

Mirela and Dominic Petrascu

Larger Than Life

A poem for beloved Drago by

Said Sabet

Dragos,

To me, you were larger than life,

you are larger than life,

and you will remain so forever.

Some people pass through our days

and simply live beside us for a while.

But others arrive carrying an entire climate within them—

another sky,

another measure of beauty,

another language for understanding the soul.

You were one of those rare beings.

This world never truly grasped your scale.

The narrow ground of ordinary life

was far too small for the vastness of your spirit.

You were too large for rooms,

for years,

for names,

for definitions—

an angel, it seemed,

mistakenly set down

within the coordinates of this earth.

You were not merely a man;

you were a phenomenon—

a philosopher

who looked beyond words

into the roots of being,

a scientist

who knew that knowledge without philosophy

is like sight without illumination,

an architect

in whose mind buildings spoke with poetry,

and an artist

who saw the hidden layer of light in the world

that most eyes never notice.

You were a living library—

not made of paper,

but of consciousness,

fire,

dream,

and presence.

Philosophy,

literature,

society,

music,

art,

architecture—

all these did not simply coexist in you;

they were woven together,

as though your soul itself

were a city lit by a thousand windows.

And with all that greatness,

how gentle you were.

How noble.

How unassuming.

How tender in humor,

how elevated in silence,

how free from that small vanity

that so often belongs to smaller souls.

You could speak of the deepest thoughts

and in the same breath,

with a quiet smile,

make the weight of the world feel lighter—

as though truth,

before it can rest inside the human heart,

must first learn to become kind.

You were not great only in thought;

you were great in presence.

In the warmth you gave to others,

in the respect you offered without display,

in that noble composure

that would not place even sorrow

upon another’s shoulders.

You knew pain,

exile,

the silent wound of identity,

the coldness of the world—

and still,

you chose light,

laughter,

and the goodness of human beings,

even when humanity had fallen

from its own heaven.

They say some people learn to dance.

But you—

you were dance itself.

In your embrace,

tango was never merely movement;

it was revelation,

an earthly translation

of the music of the soul.

You did not dance with your feet alone;

you danced with love,

with suffering,

with understanding,

with a hidden fire

that only awakened hearts could feel.

And I believe

that even now,

somewhere beyond us,

in a milonga of light,

you are still

teaching the world

how to move with grace.

And your photography—

ah,

you did not merely capture images;

you rescued moments from oblivion.

You drew feeling back

from the edge of disappearance.

In small things,

you saw that quiet splendor

the hurried eye of this world so often misses.

You found beauty

not in spectacle,

but in whispers;

not in noise,

but in that delicate trembling

only attentive souls can understand.

To some,

you were a friend.

To some,

a brother.

To some,

an unseen teacher.

To some,

a refuge.

And to me—

you were one of the invisible pillars of life,

the kind one only truly sees

after it has fallen,

when everything around it reveals

how much it had silently been carrying.

How can one understand your absence

when your presence was so immense?

How can one mourn someone

who still continues

in every authentic thought,

every deep conversation,

every photograph with a soul,

every line of philosophy,

every note of music,

every dignified dance,

every act of grace and kindness?

You left—

but not in the way

our ordinary world understands leaving.

Some human beings do not vanish in death;

they simply return

from their earthly form

to their luminous one.

You have not diminished from this world.

You have only been scattered

into its deeper layers:

into the spaces you designed,

the images you captured,

the minds you awakened,

the hearts you touched,

and the vast hollow

that your departure made sacred.

Dragos,

angelic genius,

soul for whom this world

was always too small,

rare phenomenon of tenderness,

intellect,

and beauty—

you who made softness from suffering,

smiles from depth,

light from loneliness,

and art from being—

Though your absence

tears through the chest,

your greatness will not allow your loss

to remain merely loss.

You were too vast for that.

Even your absence

has taken on the shape of presence.

And until the final day of this life,

I will say:

to me,

you were larger than life,

you are larger than life,

and you always will be.

In Loving Memory of Dragos Gorun

Some people pass through life quietly, leaving behind a few memories and familiar traces of their presence. Others leave behind an atmosphere, a light, a way of seeing, and a depth of feeling that continues long after they are gone. Dragos Gorun was one of those rare souls.

I first found Dragos in 1986 at Mark Garneau High School. He seemed to me like a phenomenon made of blond light — a rare being whose presence immediately drew me in. At that time, I was a deeply lonely and exhausted teenager, carrying within me the invisible wounds of war, separation, exile, and the painful distance from loved ones across the ocean. And then there was Dragos. Some people one simply meets; others one discovers. Dragos was not merely someone I met. He was someone I found, as if fate, in one merciful moment, placed before me a soul of extraordinary magnitude. From the very beginning, he captivated me completely, and in truth, he remained in my heart forever.

Dragos was larger than life in every sense. He was a philosopher, a scientist, an architect, an artist, a photographer, a true intellectual far ahead of his time, and above all, a soul of immense depth, grace, tenderness, humor, and nobility. This world always felt too small for him. He seemed to belong partly to this earth and partly to another, finer realm — one made of beauty, intellect, feeling, and light.

To know Dragos was to be changed by him. He expanded the inner lives of those around him. He made people think more deeply, feel more truthfully, see more beautifully, and live more consciously. He carried within him an extraordinary range of knowledge — philosophy, literature, sociology, music, architecture, and art — yet wore it all with humility, wit, and gentleness. For some, he was a friend. For others, a brother. For many, he was an unseen teacher, a refuge, a rare companion of the mind and heart.

He was also a creator in the deepest sense: an architect who shaped space with vision, a photographer who captured the hidden beauty of fleeting moments, an artist whose presence itself felt like art, and a dancer whose tango carried not merely technique, but soul. Those who knew him remember not only his brilliance, but his warmth, his kindness, his playful humor, his elegance, and his quiet refusal to burden others even when carrying pain of his own.

There are people whose absence is felt as sorrow. And then there are those whose absence opens a vast and sacred hollow in the lives of others. Dragos belongs to the latter. His passing is not only a loss, but the dimming of a rare light. And yet, he has not vanished. He remains in the spaces he designed, in the images he captured, in the conversations he elevated, in the lives he touched, and in the hearts of those who were blessed enough to know him.

To me, Dragos was, is, and will always be larger than life.

May his memory remain luminous, and may the beauty of his soul continue to live in all those he awakened, comforted, inspired, and loved.

Dragos, vola! Vola! mio amato fratello

Volare nel blu dipinto di blu!

From: Mailleh Sabet  --

Knowing you was a gift I will always carry. Your thoughts, your creativity, and your kindness have left a mark that will never fade. Though you are no longer here, your spirit lives on in every space you designed, every image you captured, and every life you touched.

Gentle Poet, Philosopher, a superb renowned Scholar, a magnificent Architect, amazing photographer and artist. You will always be remembered, and deeply missed. A sweet gentle soul. The world has lost a beautiful man.

Rest in peace dear Dragos. 🙏😔

Dragos became a good friend a bit after we met one night at Paradiso’s Milonga. He was always wearing a suit and a big smile, I loved dancing with him and he was one of my favourite dancers. Dragos was a great milonguero and never was into showing off steps but following the depts of music.

He was one of the few who visited me when I had a major surgery and I did the same for him when he had a stroke and ended up in the hospital he worked as an architect to build. As we say in Spanish “Los verdaderos amigos se conocen en el hospital y en la cárcel”… Unfortunately we lost track of each other when the pandemic hit, I never saw him again but once in a while he would send a greeting message to wish a happy new year.

He will be deeply missed and always remembered as a kind soul, good friend and true milonguero… Descansa en paz Draguitos….

Diego was one of those brilliant minds—you didn’t need much time to realize the depth of his character. When we were colleagues at Stantec, our conversations over coffee breaks always drifted toward our shared passions: dance, tango, art, literature.

At the time, I had just started taking Argentine tango classes. After he shared his background and his deep connection to that world, I always hoped for a chance to dance with him—but it never happened.

Architecture has a way of getting in the way. I wish we had been classmates in a dance class.

He will be deeply missed.

Dragos was the kind of person who made the world feel more alive just by being in it. An artist at heart, he saw beauty and possibility everywhere—whether in his paintings, his ideas, or the quiet details others might miss. He loved poems, books, and creating things that carried meaning.

He cared deeply—about his friends, his family, and even people he had just met. You could always count on him. And if he ever got upset, it was only because he wanted the people he loved to take care of themselves as much as he cared for them.

I’ll always remember his passion for life, the way he would light up with excitement over the smallest things, and how he could turn even a simple moment into something special. He dreamed big—like his vision of a living, growing space where art, nature, and life could exist together.

He even found joy in the aroma of food, in experiences, in ideas—in everything.

Dragos reminded us how to feel deeply, care fully, and live passionately. He will be missed more than words can say, but his spirit will stay with us in every moment we choose to see the world with curiosity, creativity, and love.💔🥺🥀