People Who Need People

When I was last in the Great White North, a year ago, I noticed, passing by the Ottawa Art Gallery, that it was hosting an exhibition of works by Susan Kealey.  I thought of dropping in to say hello, or at least to sign the book, but was in too much of a rush.  Nonetheless, I was quite pleased to see that another old pal had persevered in her artistic career.

I knew Susan in the early eighties. She was a sensitive, gifted writer, who was very discreet, had a finely tuned sense of irony, and who always covered her head with a scarf.  I knew what the scarf meant, but Susan was very skilled at indicating that the subject was irrelevant.

Thinking of looking up Susan, I searched in vain in Facebook, and then cruised the web.  I was saddened to see that she had passed away in 2000.  People Who Need People was one of her last works, after what I now realise was an even more difficult life than I had thought, that she lived thoroughly with quiet bravery.