Jean and my mum met sometime in the late ‘60’s during a drawing class taught (I think) by Jean Townsend. I was a surly teenager and was not paying much attention to anything my parents did, so the exact details are vague.

I do remember clearly my job that came about as a result of their friendship- that of helping Jean at the Merton Gallery on Saturdays and at openings. Although an art gallery did not seem a foreign place to me, the idea of a woman running it was something very novel.

On weekends, the rest of the building was very quiet as the art and design studios were empty. But the gallery was a hive of activity. People came in from the surrounding neighbourhoods or from far away. They were always met with Jean’s warm hellos, engaging conversation, and exhibitions showing a rich and wide range of work.

While working with Jean I learned how to structure an invoice (typing them was one of my jobs). How to fold the invoice in the envelope so the letterhead was the first thing you saw when you opened the envelope (this was, for some reason, extremely satisfying to me), how to hang a show, how to make labels (before the age of computers), all of these things I took for granted at the time. But the fact that I still often refer to those early lessons is only one of the ways that Jean influenced me. More importantly, I had the privilege of seeing all of the shows and my eyes were opened to so many Canadian artists.

Not long after that, my parents bought a farm north of Cobourg; Jean was a frequent guest. She and my mother would argue about whether buckthorn trees could be considered ornamentals. Jean was right; they should be pulled out as soon as possible. My mother won however and as I continue to pull them out to this day, I still hear their arguments.

Between the gallery and the farm, I came to know two of Jean’s passions- Canadian art and craft, and the world of native plants. Whenever Jean would come to the farm- up until her last visit 2 summers ago, we would walk through the fields and she would point out different wildflowers. Our walks got slower, the distance travelled became shorter, but her enthusiasm never faltered.

There are times when I have glimpses of actually how lucky I have been to spend so much time with Jean. The fact that she was a family friend, and therefore, at times, perhaps too familiar to be considered extraordinary- well- as my parents and their other friends passed away, Jean kept going, like the Duricell bunny. And as each year passed, I could recognize more clearly what an amazing person she was.

 – shared by Shawn on the occasion of “Tribute to Jean ”
 July 22nd, 2014 – Lakeside Terrace,  Harbourfront Centre