Editors Note:

The following piece is a memorial for Gloria Wilson, a beloved and dependable brother and co-worker of 35 or so years. The members of Arcana Workshops who meditated and worked with Gloria over the years knew and appreciated the depth of her wisdom and esoteric roots. We share this memorial with you because it gives an insight into Gloria’s life as a daughter, a woman and an aunt. We recognize and celebrate this life as the daily life of a disciple.
 

Gloria Wilson
Inspiration Personified...

Growing up, my “Aunt” Gloria was many things to me. As a small child I remember her always arriving one or two hours late for a family gathering and then sitting in her amazing little red car which she called “Raffles” (after a British burglar) - wrapping gifts.

My Mother and Father would roll their eyes while my sister and I would watch her in awe from the kitchen window for at least 30-45 minutes as we watched her go through various bags of ribbon, assorted ornaments, and bright colored paper, until she would be finished. It was worth the wait, as the presentation was always as wonderful and unique as the gift inside.

She would then make her “grand entrance” - as she called it - in some flamboyant outfit. Looking back, she lived that poem - “when I am an old lady I shall wear purple, with a big red hat that doesn’t suit me...” Everyday of her life was a series of red and purple, striped scarves around her neck, and a hat for every occasion.

As a young girl I would gravitate to her. Once again, in awe of her creativity - and to find a colorful and comforting escape from my sad life at home.

She moved around a lot - always a vagabond - something she kept from her life with her Mother, Ida. As an independent single Mother, Ida took Gloria from coast to coast. Ida playing her violin in chamber groups - while Gloria soaked up culture in the same way I would from her.

Every space she made her own. I loved visiting her and taking in all the art, music, tea, incense and the parade of cats she kept. They all seemed to have three names “Kim Tom Choy”... or, “Fledermaus” from “Die Fledermaus”, (the “flying mouse” - from Johann Strauss’ opera) - each with his or her own long story.

Everything was a long story. She couldn’t just tell you something simple about anything. You needed to hear the “flavor” of everything... from someone’s demeanor - to how brilliant she saw them, no matter how mundane they might have been. I often wondered how she met so many amazing people. And realized, years later, that it wasn’t that they were all amazing - Gloria found amazing things in everyone and everything. It was part of the magic she surrounded herself with - and why you wanted to spend time with her - why you wanted to hear all the stories.

Everything she did seemed special and wonderful. She opened up a world of art and music for me that I have kept and grown with. My daughter, Rose, said upon Gloria’s passing that if it weren’t for Gloria, she wouldn’t be here today - because, you see, I was attracted to her Father for his love of art and music. - I too had acquired Gloria’s gift to see magic in everyone.

She took me to extremely small playhouses in Los Angeles where we would see plays, modern dance, and, of course, classical music. Afterwards we’d go to some eclectic cafe, order tea and toast and she’d tell me her stories of the “beat-nic” coffee houses she went to in the 1950’s - of the people she’d known and the exciting life she’d led as a young women.

During the 1970’s I would see her at the Renaissance Fair at the old horse ranch in Malibu. Gloria would be playing music with her recorder chamber group - all in period costume - looking like she belonged in that life. She always seemed to be from another world, another time.

I hope that her beliefs are true, and that a beautiful cat will show up on my doorstep soon. If it’s a girl, I’ll name it “Gloria of Inspiration” Because nothing should be so mundane as to only have one name. I learned that from my teacher of life, my Aunt Gloria.
 

Sharon (Letts) Hed, January 24, 2003 Daughter of James Letts (cousin to Gloria) - son of Rose Hand-Letts, only sibling and sister of Ida Hand-Wilson, Mother of Gloria Wilson.

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