Facebook, February 6, 2009
Subject: Book of the Dead
Upon surfing the web, I arrived at the photos on your website of your Book of the Dead piece at Artpace. I don't know how I managed to miss such a beautiful experience that this show bestowed. But, I want you to know that I am very moved by what I saw. The pictures of you and Linda Pace and then another picture of a woman guiding an older woman out of the doorway opened floodgates of emotion that I have not allowed myself to indulge. Linda had the same hospice nurse as my father. When I sat with him for days while he was dying as well as the moment he passed away, I was wondering what sort of journey he was taking. He seemed to be entering different rooms, or places in his mind. From what I could see in your show, these places seemed manifested- from an uncomfortable chair, to warm communities of people, beautiful colors, and an elixir to soften the senses. I had to write you and tell you this.
--- Kate Terrell
I'm floored by your message and truly feel like I missed an opportunity --- with you not being there. So many people have told me over the years how deeply that piece effected them --- I feel so lucky to have been part of it. I know the pictures you mean. Linda was completely at home and laughing as she exited the maze. The pair of women were completely disoriented. There was a man with them also. They both refused the tequila but the man snapped his up as if the experience he was having owed him something. For me it was a lovefest and since I was performing in character I didn't have to be "at the opening." It was more like I had this ticket to be this ethereal observer. Your note has really stopped me and stunned me.
Thank you --- Hills
It seems fitting that Linda was laughing and comfortable- and it certainly shows in the pictures. She had a very special way of communicating how she understood art. I'm honored that I had the few interactions I had with her. When I made a piece in the window at Artpace ("Aeropeace" - hundreds of clay doves flying through the room), she wandered about quietly and gave me this look... Anyway, I think my father feared the outcome of his journey, but I know being with him made a difference. I held open his eye lids which were heavy from the morphine so he could see me and his eyes followed my gaze. I truly think he would have happily accepted the tequila and learned something.