… those in the dark cast the brightest of lights. I think Tara Cipriano was one of those people. While she could never quite convince me to reach into her bag and grab the sidewalk chalk, she convinced many other people to do so, especially her nieces and nephew, and most often strangers on the street. Accepting me for who I am, she eventually stopped asking and just shared her art, and it was art, digitally with me. I think she wanted to share the ephemeral beauty she was creating in the world, and she was looking for positive feedback in a world where increasingly, especially internally, she was receiving so much negativity.
Tara had a great laugh and great mind and had an innate creativity that in recent years overwhelmed her. In a very short period of time she went from fitting a certain young professional mold to becoming a creative wild spirit. At first such sudden flamboyant behavior and change in dress was startling to friends and family and probably even to her. But at some point she embraced the new side of herself even as words like “crazy” were thrown around.
She did seek help, and with her intelligence, she sometimes knew more than her various doctors and therapists. And there were times when, despite her great intelligence, when common sense was drowned out by other voices, and she did things she shouldn’t have. She was only human.
I don’t know Tara’s specific clinical diagnosis and it wouldn’t be my place to say on this blog. I can say that she was a unique woman who brought joy into the world and filled it with light, laughter and color. Don’t even get me started on her love of glitter and distaste for the color blue … or maybe that was just blue pens. She loved profoundly and was profoundly loved. There are those I know who will keep asking themselves, “what more could I have done?!” and to those people I say: You did all that you could. I know that she believed that because she told me so over the years. For her, you were anchors in her life that kept her here as long as she managed to remain.
After recently dealing with my younger brother’s unexpected death, I told myself that I would write no more obituaries. I don’t think of this post as an obituary but it is my attempt to share the beauty of a creative soul who will be missed and who too many people never had the chance to really know. I think she is at peace. Farewell, Tara.
I’m so sorry you lost your good friend. I only met her a handful of times, but it was obvious she was a special person.
There are bo words…such an understanding, thoughtful portrait of your friend.