Remembering Jim Rose. Artist. Furniture Maker. Brilliant Light.
Your photos are invited. Please email his sister, curator of this memorial site, at annerosewrites@gmail.com, and we will include them on this memorial wall. Memories and comments welcome below.
from Jim’s friends. Christmas 2023.
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My nephew, my batman… every morning I walk to my study and pass by the most beautiful Jim Rose, artist, cupboard one could ever imagine. Pieces of colored steel jump out to create a true and brilliant “talking piece”. As I sit in my study, I look through the french doors to a 6 drawer hallway table splendidly blending into my new house. You would certainly chuckle and give me grief for filling up two drawers with golf balls! I miss you and trust Cynthia is teaching you how to dance!!! Love
I have no pictures of Jim, but I never forgot him from high school at TASIS. Sending all my love to his family, he was a force to be sure.
Today is one year since my brother took his life. I am full of so many thoughts about him and all the “whys.” I patch those thoughts over with memories of good times with him. He was a funny, irreverent, brilliant, talented man. He was kind and generous with his heart and his time. He adored his daughter. He loved his life as an artist. I am biased, of course, but talk to anyone who knew him. And as his final letter – addressed to my father and my aunt – stated, he could no longer live with being bullied. Because, you see, bullies are not just tweenagers on Snapchat. Bullies can be spouses, ex-spouses, or children (especially children manipulated by a masterful, vengeful parent), or attorneys. Even judges. And in February of last year, Jim just no longer had the emotional resources to deal with the huge anger, cruelty, and rejection to which he was subjected – both while his marriage was crumbling and then later during his protracted and insanely complicated divorce proceedings. Bullies don’t want what’s fair. They are after total destruction. They want to lay waste to everything, even if it means mortally wounding the other party. He died of those wounds.
“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim”. I think I will be treading for a long time ….. miss you Batman!