I hope Jocelyn won't mind that I copied her words to put here:
Loneliness is a thing, I guess what we have all had sometimes, and I can remember that there were moments when I would complain about being lonely. I live in Europe, and I do sometimes feel very far away from you all (even though it has been my wish to live here, and there is no doubt that I want to live here) I remember telling Chris about my loneliness, and he told me, look Jocelyn, you really are blessed with a beautiful family, you have kids, a partner, and you have everything going for you. Don't complain, live!! Of course I knew that what he was saying was true. I am blessed. If there ever was a person who could say truthfully that he or she was lonely it would have been Chris. It must have been so for him sometimes, I guess. But, what I loved about him is that even though he didn't have the family or love that he longed for, he had the ability to make things happen for himself so that his life was good, and he could feel happy about his life. He didn't complain, he looked for the things that made him happy. Life is too precious. I am grateful to Chris for showing me that.
Well, here is his letter in which he tells about himself. love, Jocelyn
[Chris' email to Jocelyn]
Thijman plays a cello WOW!!!
When U come to U.S. (and I'm just assuming you'll bring the children $$$ an issue) if Thijman brings his instrument we can sing a couple of songs together, as I've much improved my electric guitar playing over these 8 or 9 years practicing one. I find singing and playing (even just to yourself- well I'm sure other tenants in my apartment lean an ear to their window to listen sometimes, and have had a comment or two from them on occasion) is so much fun and fulfilling therapy (almost) it can just about cure any down or feelings you are having (loneliness too, which everyone experiences I believe in life and I'm almost an authority on the subject) - so you pick a couple of songs mentioning those things and it's almost like exorcism when you sing them ( into a microphone, of course for better affect- I have one always set up in my living room) Oh yeah, my art functions that way too, but it seems now I'm almost split in half with art and music, whereas before it was all artwork.
Your daughter sounds delightful also and wish with all my heart her well being throughout her whole glorious life in this topsy turvy world we live in. creative And clever- those are nice traits, for sure.
My artwork or work on windows (sometimes painting flowers or birds and such on pet stores or salons, really a wide range of store types) is going so well really and gaining popularity all the time. I talk to people all the time who are curious ,on the streets, when I'm drawing and painting and I'm just gushing as you can imagine when they exclaim "You're so talented- we love them".
It gives them a break from hectic city life and the dirt and grime and allows them to enjoy a little beauty and charm , even if only for a short moment or two. That's how I look at my purpose in life. And since I have a ball doing it- I don't even think of it as job- and so will continue to till I guess I can't. I could do more concerning my own "personal " artwork at home- and should throw out my TV and kick myself in the ass and DO IT!!!!
Let me stop here- send me your PH. NO. and from there things can happen. O.K.?
Love you and your family jewels you have there with you-
Chaio CHRISTIAN
Friday, February 15, 2008
Monique's eulogy
I wrote this to read at the memorial but was too moved to get up and speak:
As many of you already know and what you will also notice in the slide show that I put together: Chris was not just a gifted artist and lover of music, but he was also a brother, a son, and a friend. Although he had created no family of his own, he was very much a family man. You could tell he liked being with his family and didn't make any distinction between close or distant relatives.
I was mulling over the word "brother" the other day, when thinking about Chris. Yes, he was my brother. But he wasn't just a brother through blood, but he was also a brother in the way some people use it to mean "very good friend." He was the type of man about whom you could say: "Chris is like a brother to me," because he would be there for you, he'd listen, he was someone whose opinion you valued, who impacted and influenced you for the better, and who wanted the best for you.
What I loved so much about Chris was that he would show such an interest in you and for that brief moment of togetherness be WITH you, 100%. He would devote all of his attention to you during that short span of time. Young at heart, often cheerful, always friendly, he really was the nicest man I've ever known. Even so, I think he was picky about who he became close friends with, so you could consider yourself lucky if you were chosen. But with almost everyone he was both compassionate and sympathetic.
If my mother were still here, she'd tell you her feelings for Chris, which ran deep. Although all three of her step sons were dear to her, I know that she held a special place in her heart for Chris. Chris was always invited to any get-togethers we had. Perhaps it was because he was single and could get away more easily, but I also think he liked being there and we liked having him.
When I first moved back to the States almost 20 years ago, Chris took me under his wing. He would come up to see me, driving about 75 miles up to Rifton, NY where I lived at the time. He started to sketch a portrait of me that he never finished but he came up several weekends in a row to work on it. He would often take me down to the City and we'd go see a band or check out the downtown pubs.
Even later, after I'd gotten settled in my life here, whenever the opportunity arose to either be in New York or to have a family gathering, Chris was a part of those experiences. I wish now that we could've had more of them. It's still hard to imagine we won't have those anymore.
Thanks, Chris, for being my brother. For being you.
~ Monique
As many of you already know and what you will also notice in the slide show that I put together: Chris was not just a gifted artist and lover of music, but he was also a brother, a son, and a friend. Although he had created no family of his own, he was very much a family man. You could tell he liked being with his family and didn't make any distinction between close or distant relatives.
I was mulling over the word "brother" the other day, when thinking about Chris. Yes, he was my brother. But he wasn't just a brother through blood, but he was also a brother in the way some people use it to mean "very good friend." He was the type of man about whom you could say: "Chris is like a brother to me," because he would be there for you, he'd listen, he was someone whose opinion you valued, who impacted and influenced you for the better, and who wanted the best for you.
What I loved so much about Chris was that he would show such an interest in you and for that brief moment of togetherness be WITH you, 100%. He would devote all of his attention to you during that short span of time. Young at heart, often cheerful, always friendly, he really was the nicest man I've ever known. Even so, I think he was picky about who he became close friends with, so you could consider yourself lucky if you were chosen. But with almost everyone he was both compassionate and sympathetic.
If my mother were still here, she'd tell you her feelings for Chris, which ran deep. Although all three of her step sons were dear to her, I know that she held a special place in her heart for Chris. Chris was always invited to any get-togethers we had. Perhaps it was because he was single and could get away more easily, but I also think he liked being there and we liked having him.
When I first moved back to the States almost 20 years ago, Chris took me under his wing. He would come up to see me, driving about 75 miles up to Rifton, NY where I lived at the time. He started to sketch a portrait of me that he never finished but he came up several weekends in a row to work on it. He would often take me down to the City and we'd go see a band or check out the downtown pubs.
Even later, after I'd gotten settled in my life here, whenever the opportunity arose to either be in New York or to have a family gathering, Chris was a part of those experiences. I wish now that we could've had more of them. It's still hard to imagine we won't have those anymore.
Thanks, Chris, for being my brother. For being you.
~ Monique
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
The whole of the moon
These lyrics by the Waterboys remind me very much of Chris. I learned recently that the song was a tribute to C.S. Lewis, who incidentally also died rather young:
I pictured a rainbow, You held in your hands
I had flashes, But you saw then plan
I wandered out in the world for years,
While you just stayed in your room
I saw the crescent, You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!
You were there at the turnstiles
With the wind at your heels
You stretched for the stars
And you know how it feels
To reach too high, Too far, Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon!
I was grounded, While you filled the skies
I was dumbfounded by truths, You cut through lies
I saw the rain-dirty valley, You saw Brigadoon
I saw the crescent,
You saw the whole of the moon!
I spoke about wings, You just flew
I wondered, I guessed, and I tried, You just knew
I sighed, But you swooned
I saw the crescent,
You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!
With a torch in your pocket
And the wind at your heels
You climbed on the ladder
And you know how it feels
To reach too high, Too far, Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!
Unicorns and cannonballs,
Palaces and piers,
Trumpets, towers, and tenements,
Wide oceans full of tears,
Flag, rags, ferry boats,
Scimitars and scarves,
Every precious dream and vision
Underneath the stars
You climbed on the ladder
With the wind in your sails
You came like a comet
Blazing your trail
Too high, Too far, Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon!
I pictured a rainbow, You held in your hands
I had flashes, But you saw then plan
I wandered out in the world for years,
While you just stayed in your room
I saw the crescent, You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!
You were there at the turnstiles
With the wind at your heels
You stretched for the stars
And you know how it feels
To reach too high, Too far, Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon!
I was grounded, While you filled the skies
I was dumbfounded by truths, You cut through lies
I saw the rain-dirty valley, You saw Brigadoon
I saw the crescent,
You saw the whole of the moon!
I spoke about wings, You just flew
I wondered, I guessed, and I tried, You just knew
I sighed, But you swooned
I saw the crescent,
You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!
With a torch in your pocket
And the wind at your heels
You climbed on the ladder
And you know how it feels
To reach too high, Too far, Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!
Unicorns and cannonballs,
Palaces and piers,
Trumpets, towers, and tenements,
Wide oceans full of tears,
Flag, rags, ferry boats,
Scimitars and scarves,
Every precious dream and vision
Underneath the stars
You climbed on the ladder
With the wind in your sails
You came like a comet
Blazing your trail
Too high, Too far, Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon!
Share your stories of Christian
I invite anyone who is interested to share a memory, story, anecdote, or whatever you wish of Christian. Use the comments feature below or email me something at myeaton@comcast.net and I'll post it for you.
Memorial in Cambridge
On February 9 we had a memorial party for Chris at his mother's house in Cambridge, MA. Many of his family members were there to view his artwork, listen to the music he played, talk about the things we knew about him, and meet all the folks who loved and admired him.Each of us did our share: brother Serge arranged for the food and shared with us some of Chris' last moments on this Earth; brother Michel read a wonderfully detailed and moving tribute to Chris that he'd written, describing all the ways that walls played a role in his life, from walls for murals to a wall in his apartment for keeping the names and numbers of his friends and family handy; sister Jocelyn flew 3,000 miles from Holland just to be here; brother Peter had played a large role in being in touch with the authorities after Chris died and helping square away the apartment; I as a sister wanted to showcase Chris' art as well as photos of him with his art and family and put together a slide show that could be viewed during this event. The images in the slide show are accessible from this site.
Especially wonderful was that Chris' best friend George came up from Brooklyn to attend and share with us some of the things he'd learned about this complex and interesting person who many of us didn't know completely.
Thanks to all who attended and also most of all to Jacqui who hosted the event at her beautiful home during this difficult time.
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