Remembering Marcia Bizon
Like in so many other aspects of life, as an artist, a lot of times it’s all about who you know. For the last decade or so I have made a conscious effort to surround myself by those invested in the arts. People contributing and sharing and connecting other artists. And I have been beyond fortunate with the people I have encountered and befriended.
The most influential person in my Portland art life? Marcia Bizon. Hands down. I met Marcia about 15 years ago, when I was working as an events planner at Rejuvenation. The company had a charitable component, and I’d lobbied hard to make p:ear our charitable partner. If you aren’t familiar, p:ear offers creative mentoring for homeless youth, and Marcia was the gallery director/curator there at the time. We had collaborated on some fundraising events, and I was instantly drawn to her confidence and energy. Marcia had an elegance about her that could transcend whatever else was happening in the room. She was tall and slender. Beautiful and stylish, but approachable and engaging. She gave so much to the arts here in Portland throughout her life. My younger self looked at her and thought- “This is the kind of person I want to be. the kind of life I want to live.”
Marcia and I at p:ear’s annual fundraiser in 2017.
Over the years, we’d connect at gallery openings, artist talks and charitable events. We got to be friends who would meet for coffee or cocktails and just chat about our dating adventures (or misadventures in my case), and art. She was always so interested and supportive of my artwork. She visited my studio several times and would often appear at art shows I was in. For a time, when I was a member artist at StuStuStudio, I saw her more often. She lived just down the street and would pop in to say hi and discuss the new art in the shop and I was always delighted to see her. And if I’m being honest, a little amazed that she found my creations worthy of conversation and her attention.
In the spring of 2018, Marcia called me to invite me to have a month long solo show at Sotheby’s in the Pearl District. If you aren’t from Portland, this is kind of a big deal! The Pearl District is home to a majority of the city’s fine art galleries and every first Thursday they all have gallery openings and celebrations of the new shows. It’s like a monthly one night celebration of the arts, and it was the dreamiest opportunity! Over the next few months we met over meals or cocktails and planned. I pulled together a large body of work (all my cityscape art) in acrylic and ceramic, and Marcia helped me curate and organize it to hang. Some of my fondest memories of her and our friendship were created planning that show. Had she not believed in me, I would have never imagined it were possible, or been brave enough to share so much of my art with strangers. It was a real turning point for me as an artist.
The Sotheby’s opening for my show Urban Planning, and Marcia (far right) dazzling the room with her smile.
Marcia had a knack for elevating artists and making them feel seen and heard. She was easy to talk to and always present in the moment. She was fun and fabulous, and so very thoughtful. I feel so incredibly lucky to have known her.
In 2020, in the early days of COVID, I had been reaching out to people in my local circle of friends. Just checking in and having conversations about how we were all feeling and processing that strange new world. I had talked with Marcia just before the world shut down. I was scheduled for surgery and she and I chatted through it- all my fears and worries. She consoled me, and assured me it would all be fine. And it was, albeit delayed because of COVID, but I was better than fine when all was said and done. A couple of months had passed and I hadn’t heard back from Marcia. I’d called and texted a few times with no response, but thought I’d try again. This time she answered. Her voice sounded heavy, and tired. She’d been diagnosed with colorectal cancer, and while she never shared the prognosis, I knew it wasn’t good.
Marcia and I at the opening reception for Urban Planning at Sotheby’s.
After some time, I visited her for lunch. Her home was still perfect and beautiful. I always enjoyed visiting and taking in her art collection- hearing the stories about the artists or how she came to have certain pieces. As sick as she was, she insisted on making lunch for me, and even remembered all my stupid food allergies. We just sat and talked and it was a lovely visit that I feared might be our last. I had tried to connect with her after that but it never really came together. So when I was in her neighborhood I’d leave small offerings on her porch: flowers from the garden, some homegrown garden goodies, jams, tiny art and cards. I wanted her to know how profoundly she affected me; how grateful I was.
It’s been a while since I’d heard from her. I’d call and text from time to time, but didn’t get much response. On our last lunch she’d mentioned she was fighting to have as much time with her grandson as she could, so I know her focus was there. I’d been thinking about her a lot this last week. And I’d meant to call her, but you know how it is- sometimes the timing is always off. Yesterday morning though, she was very present in my mind, and I thought, once I’d finished my chores I’d try to call her again. But I got distracted by making dinner. As I was cleaning our ADU my phone flashed an incoming text: “Sad to hear about Marcia…”
She was gone.
And I am grieving her loss. Thinking all the things we always think when we lose the people we love. If only… I had called more. Made more time to visit. I replay some of the things I said in our last conversation and cringe a little, feeling selfish for… I’m not sure what exactly. The finality of death, it just never gets easier to process or accept. I always feel I should have done something more. I guess that’s the best we can do as we deal with such profound feelings of loss.
And those feelings always come with the reminder: spend more time with the people you love. Be present. Enjoy each moment. Express your feelings. Don’t hold back.
But life gets busy, and we settle back into our days. Fretting about the state of the world, and what we’re cooking for dinner. It just happens. Until we lose the next person, and we remember all over again. I always just want a little more time.
Marcia in Todos Santos, Mexico on one the retreats she co-hosted with her friend. I borrowed this photo from her Instagram page because it captures her warmth and beauty perfectly.
To Marcia-
Thank you for seeing me, when I really needed to be seen. One of the first times we met, you planted the seeds for me to start chasing me dreams. We were working at one of the p:ear/Rejuvenation fundraiser events, standing in the back of the room, and I’d mentioned I’d moved to Portland to be an artist, but had fallen into the amazing job, and gotten sidetracked. I don’t remember exactly what you said to me that night, but you expressed an interest in my art, and me as an artist. That seemingly small encouragement, was a game changer for me. And I know, that I can not be the only artist who feels this way. Thank you for breathing so much life into me, and the arts. I will miss you terribly. So many people will miss you terribly.