Comments for Loren Kellen

Comment on Comments by Yiscah

Yiscah — Sat, 07 May 2011 03:34:21 +0000

We just passed the second MayDay without you. It was cold, windy and gray. Although Jemiah had led leak-plugging several weekends before, the red paint was dull on the SunLiner, and on Herald and Maude, and the escorts too. Overlooked? Forgotten? I do not know. Ryan raised noise, the way you would have wanted it. But the paint needs freshening up.

There was no rehearsal for either setup or crossing, b/c of a steady cold downpour that day. But the people still came. Sandy held an intimate and contained rehearsal in the park building gym, and Scott blew the conch as if we were coming across. Despite the lack of rehearsal, at setup on the morning of, there were rubber ties in abundance. And although uncertain and hesitant, there still was the practice of quick-release knots, preferably underneath rather than on top. The people (some who never knew you) fumbled but practiced your discipline. The ritual is fragile but persists, with both flaws and brilliance.

Crows were the theme of the ceremony and parade. Your old costumes made appearances but so many feathers were gone, with embarrassing bare black polyester beneath. Was the glue gun forgotten? Or did the world just lose its abundance of black-dyed ostrich feathers over the years? During the ceremony, Safford was a crow across the shore, but at both the rehearsal that didn’t happen, and at setup the morning of, he was present in a black wool sweater, giving the guidance that would have come from you. Maren choked and called your name

Loren. I gaze at the photos Liz Welch took of the art in the yard just days after you flew away. I laugh at their hilarity and your challenge to convention, and I cry b/c you self-destructed by refusing guidance for your magnificent energy. There was a way to integrate your spirit more smoothly into the rest of the world, to the enhancement of both. I tried, you resisted, we quarreled and left wounds. Deep regrets and deep acceptance. Tears still pierce, almost always unexpectedly. And now conversations occur at unexpected moments as well. Would that we had been able to converse then with the honest equanimity that hovers above us today. I miss you as a spear to the heart. And yet move on.

Comment on Comments by Yiscah

Yiscah — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 21:52:58 +0000

Thinking of you today.

Comment on Comments by Yiscah

Yiscah — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 13:58:57 +0000

We are here Cori.

Comment on Comments by Cori Gaby

Cori Gaby — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 02:29:28 +0000

I hope everyone has him in their hearts and in the their minds on Saturday. It does not seem like a year has passed but it has. I know he is still missed!

Comment on Comment from Loren on May 1, 2009 by liz white

liz white — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 17:30:07 +0000

Seven months will have passed by this MayDay celebration. He will be there in many different ways.

Sister Liz

Comment on Loren’s Celebration Slideshow by Celia Swanson

Celia Swanson — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 18:17:02 +0000

Six months on and I still cry when I look at all these pictures. He is gone, but he isn’t. He’s still all over my life, in my heart, around my house, and in my thoughts.

Comment on Comments by Cindy Weldon

Cindy Weldon — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 23:59:07 +0000

I live in Loren’s neighborhood, and only now learned of his passing. How sad to know that he will not be emerging from the neighborhood’s winter hibernation. I was so pleased to find this site where I can delight in the stories and photos. I walk by his house often on my dog-walks, and always enjoy spying the latest token placed in the yard, whether it be a plastic dinosaur, a superhero doll, or a piece of colored glass. His garden of lillies and pumpkins and corn and other beauties is always a treat. Peace be with you and those who love you.

Comment on Comments by lisa

lisa — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 01:17:05 +0000

He’s still gone.

(The only poem I have been able to complete about Loren thus far.)

Comment on Comments by Yiscah Bracha

Yiscah Bracha — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 05:32:28 +0000

I look at these photos and I still can’t believe that he’s gone.

Comment on Comments by Mark John

Mark John — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 06:51:04 +0000

Road Kill. That is what was under the seat of the Incredible Hulk the day after Loren left the Circle of Water Circus tour. Loren was the mercurial driver of the old green bus that carried us down the Mississippi River valley. He designed, built and imagined large segments of the superstructure of the circus, holding it together with used bicycle inner tubes. His energy was always fully engaged and nothing was done partway. This was true the day he left the Circus. Somewhere in Northern Louisiana Loren decided that he was leaving. He gathered everything that he owned or that he had collected during our 3 and a half month tour and created a large pile. And again, fire began to consume his world. My two young sons, Nick and Finn, gathered to watch the inferno envelop Loren’s material world. The next day while cleaning out the driver’s seat, the seat where only Loren had sat, came the one item that fire had not consumed. Road Kill.

I’m sure there is a fire burning somewhere in the spirit world with Loren tending it.

Blessing Loren

Comment on Comments by Celia Swanson

Celia Swanson — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 21:31:26 +0000

Come dance on the floor that Loren built!

It’s time once again for my annual SHAKE THE STUFFING OUT OF YOU PARTY!

When: Friday, Nov. 27 (the day after Thanksgiving), starting at around 6:30ish and going until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.

What: I’m highlighting the dance floor that Loren built in my basement, so be sure to bring your dancing shoes and any CDs that would be fun to boogie to! I will also be displaying the photo-boards I made for Loren’s Memorial service so people can look at them more closely if they desire.

Bring: BYOB, Potluck, musical instruments for jamming, songbooks, stories of Loren to tell, etc. Feel free to bring any T-day leftovers if you want to be rid of them!

If the weather is nice, I’ll build a fire in my firepit…if anyone can bring some firewood! Loren always supplied my firewood, so I’m looking for new sources of free wood.

Where: Celia’s house
1583 Race Street
St. Paul 55102
(located in the NE quadrant of the intersection of 35E and West 7th. Mapquest it!)
(651)-224-9784

Feel free to pass this email on to others who might like to join our merry-making!

Let’s shake it all out!

Comment on Comments by Marie Olofsdotter

Marie Olofsdotter — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 21:23:36 +0000

When I think about Loren, I think about his watery blue eyes, his laughter and hearty hugs. I see him driving the green Hulk all those years ago on the Circle of Water Circus. I see him constructing the sootiest darkest pieces of the May Day Parade. I remember all those times he joined me on my walks along the Mississippi. The time he told me of his dream of the sacred snake woman, the Naga, rising out of the river.

What a way to die, Loren, on the bridge over the Mississippi, the place where the muse had appeared many years before. They say you must befriend the Naga people, the guardians of underwater treasures, if you want to create true art, that all artist must learn to traverse their dark waters. As in all things, you manifested this ability fully and brought back gem after gem. The greatest gem of all, that radiant heart of yours.

Comment on Remembrances of Loren by Roger Cuthbertson

Roger Cuthbertson — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 17:12:42 +0000

I regret that I was unable to make it to the memorials for Loren. Fortunately for me, this web site that Nick has maintained has given me a chance to kind of hang out with Loren one more time. Thanks Nick. Loren’s death has made me feel a sense of loss disproportionate to the small amount of time, mostly years ago, that I spent with him. It just isn’t going to be the same with him gone. His life was a creative, colorful, tapestry that entertained, taught, and inspired. Our community will dearly miss this culture shaping artist friend. Lucky for us, there is a little of Loren honed into everyone that knew him that will be moving us forward in the good ways that he modeled. Still, I am missing him very much.
Roger Cuthbertson

Comment on Remembrances of Loren by Karen Lehman

Karen Lehman — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 19:40:10 +0000

The first time I remember meeting Loren was at a dance in St. Paul with Lucinda Anderson in the late 70s. Right away it was clear how much of his intelligence was physical – he was a good dancer, and serious about it! As I got to know him over the stages of his life – his camping in a tent while rehearsing for the Circle of Water Circus, his living in a cave (giving the idea of the Man Cave a whole new meaning), his fanciful home in St. Paul overflowing with various animal skins – and in the parallel universe which is May Day, as a the King of the Sun, as a mud man, a heron – I marveled at the way he played with the physical world and made it his own.

Over the years, Loren’s and my friendship grew around the many projects he did for me in three houses. The most creative was a barter we did, where I traded him work on a house I owned in Bisbee, Arizona, for time at a cabin in the Chiricahua Mountains in Arizona for him and his then sweetie/and for many years close friend, Yiscah Bracha. His fingerprints are literally all over my houses in joint compound and tub grout, and I will treasure knowing that they are there.

What I most loved about Loren was his capacity for improvisation of all kinds, the sheer joy of it. Whether it was working on a May Day puppet or redoing a kitchen, Loren had no limits for the ways he could look at a problem. I loved the process of creative exploration, of figuring out what to do. I felt that suddenly I was more creative because I could see the possibilities he showed me.

Loren’s spirit is impossible to contain in a single life. I am sorry not to be at the celebration, because I think I would get a chance to see the scope of Loren’s life as he truly lived it, reflected in the eyes of all of his friends. Loren, you live on in my heart.

Comment on Comments by Mary Jo Nikolai

Mary Jo Nikolai — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 19:39:07 +0000

Riding off into the Sun
The last time I saw Loren was at ’9 Nights of Music’ at the Minnesota History Center. It was August 18th and a group of friends were there to celebrate my husband’s (Mike Huber) 42nd birthday. Loren was dancing like a whirlwind with Lisa to the music of Yid Vicious. Later, he came up on the hillside and hung out with us. At the end of the event, he literally rode off into the sunset on his bike. Late that night Mike and I marveled about him: his agelessness; his ‘force of nature’ energy; his perfect contadictory balance of fierceness and gentleness.
Fierce
To know a man is to know what he loved as well as what he hated. And Loren hated squirrels. 20 years ago at a May Day workshop, my friend Scotti was making a squirrel mask. Loren saw this and had to come over and talk to us about squirrels. They were his nemeses, his life long adversaries, a personal infliction, a plaque on his house. Yet, after listening for two hours to his tirade against squirrels, I couldn’t help but notice an admiration of their resourcefulness and procreating. And as if to prove this hate/love relationship with the furry tailed rodents, at the end of our conversation he told us with we really needed to see the mummified squirrel that he found in the wall of his house.
Gentle
I was building puppets for Dumpster Duels and had my 1 year old daughter Johanna with me. I remember how gentle and sweet Loren was with her. Loren noticed that her hands were cold, and he found a pair of socks and put them over her hands to keep them warm. I year later, at the next DD, he lightly berated me, that he thought her socks were too tight, and he took them off her feet to let her toes wiggle free. How gentle and maternal he was.

Comment on Remembrances of Loren by Robert Anderson

Robert Anderson — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 19:37:23 +0000

I was a neighbor of Loren, but unfortunately I never got to know him very well. Now that I have learned of his death and have read about his accomplishments, I feel bad that I didn’t get to know him better. I would always wave to him when I drove by his house. I remember with great fondness seeing him riding down the street on his bicycle with the pink flamingo puppet. He seemed to be a very gentle soul and a great and interesting inhabitant of the neighborhood.

Comment on Remembrances of Loren by Craig Johnson

Craig Johnson — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 14:55:43 +0000

Last Spring, I sat with my friend Betty on her patio overlooking the Mississippi. We were relishing the sun, the blue water, and the greenery on the bluffs as folks in these Northern climes are wont to do at that time of year. A frantic commotion erupting from the river interrupted our conversation. It was a stampede of ducklings running across the surface as fast as they could. There must have been fifty of them, all born in the Spring, running as fast as they could behind their mothers. They had to run. They were too young to fly. They settled. The water calmed. Betty and I resumed our conversation only to be interrupted again a few moments later by another frenzy from the river. This time Betty and I watched as an eagle quietly swooped down and extracted one of the ducklings from amongst her peers. Without effort, but pestered by a crow, the eagle soared and landed on a tree limb in Betty’s back yard. We watched as the eagle had her lunch while the ducklings settled and the water calmed.

Our good friend Loren died late yesterday afternoon. A heart attack took him suddenly as he drove his van across the Mississippi on the Lake Street bridge. We learned of this at the dance last evening. Our favorite band, The Light of the Moon, played us into a frenzy. At the end, we waltzed for Loren.

Comment on Comments by N.M.Kelby

N.M.Kelby — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 13:25:22 +0000

Loren was the kindest old soul I have ever known. When I worked with HOBT, he went out of his way to make me feel that I belonged. He showed me such kindness, and such a wild heart, that I will never forget him. When we all would call to the SUN! we knew the SUN was Loren.

Safe journey into the dark mystery. You will live in our hearts forever.

Comment on Comments by Ketti Menne

Ketti Menne — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 04:18:15 +0000

I love the statement about the plastic rats! What a guy!

Comment on Comments by Doug Cain

Doug Cain — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 22:05:58 +0000

Good ol’ Loren ! A gentle yet wild soul ! I loved Nick W.’s comments, I was part of the magical Circle of Water Circus and remember Loren’s ingenuity. We became life long friends. After the Circus I helped him move four times in a row. I remember one particular bon-fire which reached the sky outside the potato cave. He had a tree house near the swamp which he gladly shared – covered appropriately by mosquito netting. What a joy, what adventure. It just kept coming. Skiing, canoeing, biking, whatever, he is so much a part of me that I am taking him with me… as are so many others who have met and been deeply impressed by Loren. For my money – Loren – You’re the Man !