I awoke yesterday morning to the news that a local legend had passed away. Joan Heriot was born here 101.5 years ago. I met her when she would substitute teach for her friend, Sveva Caetani who taught at Charles Bloom. I recall the first time I met Ms. Heriot.... who was such an impish contrast to the towering Caetani. I remember thinking - well this one is not so imposing..." Boy was I wrong!
Joan was Fiesty. I think had she been born 75 years later - she would be an uber geek. She was a very technical thinker. Savvy. Fun. I got to know her more after graduation, when she moved into The Caetani House. Her artistic legacy was alive and well in the 70's.... and everyone in the know knew that in order to own a Heriot Original "you had to be on the list." The list was years long. I got my name on the list, and in about 1990 - took possession of my original Heriot piece. (Which I lost in my divorce.) When Joan learned that years later... she slipped me back into the list!
Joan worked from original slides, using a little tiny viewer. She and Sveva would pour over the slides and she would note Sveva's comments pro and con - and thus images were sorted. It was a great honour to sit with her after Sveva passed, and take up the task of examining the slides and have my comments noted. I know that somewhere out there, there are boxes of slides that say Ok'd by Brell - or Brellis - as Joan was always formal with the nickname - and sometimes the ever popular "less foreground - more sky!" During one of these times I saw a most extraordinary image - which quite excited me... This one HAD to be done. There was something about it. I had not seen anything like it in all the other slides we had looked at over the years.
Later, Joan presented me with that painting - which I learned was a scene from Scotland! I was honoured, touched and very grateful.
My favourite Joan story was the one where Joan was a bright, enquiring, and rather impossible four year old. She had given her Mum a run for the entire day. At the end of the day, as her Mum tucked her into bed, as the story goes, her Mum said
"There. Now you can't cause any more trouble today." to which Joan replied
"OH yes I can! ..... I can bite a hole in my nightie fr'instance!"
It was the Fr'Instance that Joan loved... eluding to the fact that there were sooooo many ways she could still be an imp - biting a hole in the nightie merely being on.
It should be noted, that Joan did bite a hole in a hot water bottle once. But that was a scientific experiment she said. That was her story, and she stuck to it.
My daughter will think of Joan based on her interactions with her when she was the Courtesy Driver for Vernon Dodge - where Joan, with 2 canes took her Subaru Justy (4wd of course!) for servicing - as one who was fiercely independent - refusing to be "coddled to" whilst proclaiming "I don't really know WHY they call them the golden years.... there really is nothing golden about them!... Off we go!" Joan drove for a long time. I offered to buy her little car "for my son" - when she was ready of course, ( but mainly I was thinking she ought not to be driving.) Eventually the call came.. "Brellis - I am ready to sell you the car. Come round and we'll take it for a spin. She insisted on driving the first leg of the test - which took us out of her underground parking and out Okanagan Landing Rd. She was perhaps 90 at this stage. The car was a standard, with armstrong steering... how she drove that car I will never really know! She was happy, having made her farewell drive, we were all alive, and the purchase was made. The car still runs, and was indeed gifted to our son.
I can't help but think that there is one heck of a reunion going on between the old pals of Sveva, Joan, Paddy Mackie and Grace Funk. I know there were more in that crew - who camped and cajoled. How wonderful it would be if we could wind back time to the early 70s and witness that crew in action. I wish them all well. They took care of one another in this life - and I am sure the next adventures will be a wonderful ones.
Rest in Peace Joan.
Love,
Brellis.
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