Dying to Live (dedicated to the memory of Menya Wolfe)
Isee you I hear you
telling me where to go
in no uncetain terms
to find a journal
in that maddening maze
called Robarts

I see you I hear you
refusing to do the dishes
reminding me "it's your turn, don"
stubborn like me
a strength we shared

I see you I hear you
firmly telling me
"I'm right-you're wrong"
just like your mother
who's always right
of course

I see you I hear you and Pete
opening your brave heats
to our aching hearts
while you were
dying to live
dying to reach out
to so many
brothers and sisters
in this cancerous world
dying to live

I see you I hear you
singing-playing-dancing to your music
creatively-anachronistically
of course

What a spirit yu were and are
still dancing
still singing
still playing
your music, our music
we only have to listen

Edited by author 03-05-2001 08:48 PM
Some characters are described as "two dimensional", some as "three dimensional". Describing Menya as "three dimensional" just doesn't do her justice - she was "n dimensional". There are just so many different sides to her character, roles that she played, different contexts that she was comfortable in. It really needs a bulletin board like this where the many of us can contribute our pieces of the overall mosaic. And we still won't do her justice.

I knew her for about twenty years. Sometimes we were closer, some times we were further apart. We shared an apartment for a while. And years went by (or seemed to) when we didn't see each other. In those twenty years there were a few sides of her that I saw, others that I know of but never experienced personally. It's hard to pick out which stories to tell.

I met Menya in the SCA. She had a lot of friends there. Many in high places - others in not so high places. People have referred to her "network of operatives". For a while she had quite the reputation for the deviousness of her plotting. It was best not to offend her; one could get burned. I remember once in the mid-1980s when I was autocrating an event with a Hundred Years War theme, I thought a riddle/quest activity might add to the enjoyment of the day. Perhaps a bit of French/English espionage. Knowing Menya's penchant for plotting, I asked her to set something up. Menya accepted and kept me updated on the progress of the "plot". She gave me a role to play on the day of the event. I was to listen for a particular password and give a small scroll only to the person who got it right. Meanwhile, Menya had been arranging the plot with quite a number of her "operatives". The thing is, it was not a French/English plot, but rather a plot to fool me into thinking that there was an espionage game going on. She'd keep coralling different people and sending them along to me with passwords that she made up on the spot. The plan was that I was to get all excited about a game that didn't exist (as everyone but me knew). She hadn't been happy, you see, with being typecast as a plotter and I needed to be taught a lesson. So learn my lesson and don't just see her as the imp she was.

For a while there in the SCA, Menya and I hung around the same group of friends, who met alot outside group meetings and events. I got to see other sides of Menya. During our role playing sessions, for example. I remember the science fiction game where Menya played a Vargir character (a wolf-like species, of course) who was one of our Pirate Quartet. Who could forget her character's Donkey Kong addiction or fondness for howling operas - or the time we hijacked an interstellar shipment of Glenfyddich only to find an imperial plant.

Others have written about Menya's creative side. She seemed adept at whatever art she turned her hand to, with whatever tool. I remember her challenge to herself to learn the harp to performance level within the space of a year - a challenge she met (as most of you know; for most the picture that first comes to mind of Menya is one with a harp). She was also adept at writing words and music, calligraphy and illumination, enamelling, metalwork and a host of other SCA skills. But I also remember her mastering the mouse as a drawing tool, long before she got her tablet (and master it she did; it was incredible the things she could draw with it!). I saw (and heard) a lot of her creative side when I was fortunate enough to share an apartment with her.

My chief memories of her from that time, however, are the smaller things. I will never be able to see dolmades (the Greek stuffed grape leaves) without thinking of Menya. They were readily available in the market down the street and Menya, enjoying them, liked to keep herself stocked. Menya was not one to deny herself the small pleasures that life can afford if the opportunity to avail herself of them presented itself. It didn't suprise me at all to find that she had ended up in a house with a jacuzzi.

This is getting pretty long, and I've only just started to scratch the surface. I'll let someone else have a chance to reveal another side of the many-faceted Menya. For she surely was a jewel.

I was not that close to Menya, just the odd dinner, or shakespear in the living room. I just wanted to leave my anecdote as testament to her indelible touch.

I was in hospital durring one of her radiation treatments, and she would occasionaly drop by on her way home. My mother was having difficulty with my illness (mental) and we were not really speaking. One day my mother and I were sitting in the lounge, not speaking, when Menya appeared. She bounced down the hallway in her winter coat and a little cap, and sat in the chair in between us. I don't remember all of what she said, but she drew my mother and I into a conversation which lasted all of 20 minutes. After she left, my mother and I kept talking. And we have continued to do so for several years.

We have heard so much of Menya's "pranking", but she also used her ability to sum up what was critial in a person to smooth and facillitate where there was pain.

One way or another, she will always be in my life. I will cry, but you will still be there. Thank you.

annette

I think one of the more vivid memories I have of Menya was her SCA "stupid peer trick." We were all waiting around for a Laureling to happen (Balderic's, for those of you in the SCA--I believe he was in the loo) so the Queen called for a stupid peer trick. Rhiannon stepped up and proceeded to play her harp--with a loaf of bread. It was extremely goofy, but it was the deranged expression on her face that made it.

I also remember that blue drink she mixed for me at my wedding shower (who knows what was in there?) that led to bouts of dancing on the roof and formerly sedate party attendees to start howling with laughter at balloons placed in rude positions.

On the serious side, she provided the music at my wedding, although I'll be danged if I can remember any of it. I think I walked down the aisle to one of the songs she wrote for Septentria.

To absent friends.

Susan/Nicolaa de B.

 One of the stories told at at the memorial was the one about Menya's birthmark. She would say, "I have a birthmark that you couldn't see if I was standing on the beach in a string bikini", and then offer to show it to you for $5.00 (more or less depending on how cute you were).
 What I'm not sure about is whether she used this pick-up line on Pete when they first met in person, nor whether Pete used his immortal line: "Do you want to see my triple-fluted tongue trick?"
 Either way, it was a match made, not in heaven, but rather very much in earthiness. And very well.
  Gunnar
P.S. It was on the bottom of her foot.

Yes, Gunnar, she did use that one on me, but I figured out where it was (although I think I guessed the wrong foot...)

Susan Clark has reminded me -- Menya made me a drink too, in a great tumbler, with an entire peeled banana mashed across the top of it no less! 'Way more rum than coke, if I recall correctly (surprised I remember it at all). It was served with a fiendish grin.

I first met Menya in the Eaton Centre of all places, in 1985. She was in the company of David Tallan. I was in the company of Tarver. All of them made a deep impression on my 21-year-old self -- I instantly knew that my decision to join the SCA meant that I would meet the most fascinating people in the world. I spent years making sure I could sit near her and listen when she would play and sing.

Menya played and danced during my wedding feast. I wish I had better photos of that, not to mention a recording.

Many of you know the story about how twelve of us, including Menya, were stuck in an elevator during a New Year's Eve costume party. We had a Polaroid camera and a good store of alcohol with us, so we managed to have a memorable time despite our unfortunate circumstances. I gave one of the snapshots to Pete and Menya -- it shows Menya dressed like an angel (silvery halo included!), with the sweetest, most innocent expression on her face. It would be fun to have on the Web site.

Menya once wrote a song about a friend in the UK. I loved the music, but I joked with her about how *utterly* meaningless the lyrics were to those of us millions who hadn't met this (no-doubt terrific) 'Mereddin' person. I wrote completely different lyrics for our friend Vychata, and actually sang them out loud (in front of other people) (yep) at a Pennsic one year. I can still sing that song. I haven't heard a recording of the original. Is there a chance that I possess the last clear memory of this simple but effective melody? I hope not! There must be another harp-playing friend who can still perform this song?

Menya and I were almost exactly the same age. (I made the most of my two weeks' seniority, that goes without saying.) Over the years, we sometimes lived in the same building, even the same apartment, and our acquaintance was constant except while she was in England. She was very good to me when I was the one with cancer, and perhaps because I have survived and she hasn't, I have a lingering feeling that I didn't do enough to pay her back for that and all else.

Thanks for everything, Menya.

 Regarding what Sue Bridges was saying about the elevator incident [it was during our Heaven and Hell party ("come as your favourite eclestiastical or anti-eclesiastical figure or virtue or vice") - the elevator, being the route from Hell to Heaven was, of course, purgatory] and Menya in her angel costume.
 We all knew - of course - that the angel outfit was just her playing dress-up (shades of 'Alice-in-wonderland') and that she was really a [pun warning] little devil at heart. But then she was always fond of playing [major pun warning] the wolfe in sheep's clothing. You just knew when you left their house at night that Menya would soon be putting on the sheep suit and Pete his moose antlers!

There is a surviving picture of Menya in Purgatory!
  http://www.menyawolfe.com/elevator.jpg

Her name tag reads "The Archangel Muriel".

So who can name all the people in the elevator?

Thanks for posting the picture, Pete!

I remember that there were twelve people in the elevator -- eight women and four men. The women sat on the floor of the elevator, while the men stood around the walls.

I have a second picture of the same scene (not including Menya). I'll see if I can find it.

This was actually a "Dante" party. Chris Kowalchuk was Dante, and David Tallan was Virgil, as I recall. Chris played it up, dressing as a tourist with a camera and everything. Gunnar was, er, he was . . . Jesus Christ. Yep, business card and all.

As Gunnar says, we were on our way from Hell (on the 6th floor) to Heaven (on a higher floor), where Menya and I were to be married by the Borgia Pope. (He must have had a day pass or something.)

Yes, it's true! I proposed, and she accepted. It was to be a marriage made in heaven -- that went straight to hell.

We spent our time in purgatory singing 1970s elevator songs ("My name is Michael, I got a nickel" etc.) and conducting poetry readings.

The people I can see here (forgive the mixture of real/SCA names) are Hector, Madinia, Kim, Menya, and me. Hector's big kilt is front and centre. Others I know were there include Chris and David (maybe Tara?). The other picture shows more people, I know.

After our hour in Purgatory, Menya and I decided that perhaps our marriage was not in the cards. We called it off, and next New Year's Eve I married Kim instead -- kazoo band and all. Charles delivered his famous sermon on the subject of Esau and Jacob, as I recall. Most satisfactory.

The weird thing is that being stuck in an elevator is not anyone's idea of a good time. However, many of those in the elevator, including Menya, told me in later years that Purgatory was a memorable party-going highlight for them -- and this in an era of fabulous bashes.

  Another favourite Menya Moment (tm)...
 It had been a long and busy Pensic (if you've never been Pensic, imagine 10,000 people all trying to live without modern conveniences for two weeks) and we were stopping off for lunch on the road home. We were all still in medieval clothing as we were all fond of 'freaking the mundanes' and sat down at a table together.
 Menya got this incredible expression of wonder on her face as she looked down at the table. She reverently and gingerly picked up her fork and examined it from several angles while we looked at her with puzzled expressions on our faces.
 "What a wonderfull idea!", she said showing the fork to us all. We laughed our heads off.

I'm reading through the memories, from people I know, or have met, and from people I've never met, and realising that I'm familiar with a lot of these stories, despite many of them having taken place "before my time" or outside my immediate experience. I'm realising that I heard a great many of them from Menya herself, at one party or gathering or another. Menya was not unaware of just how interesting some of her...escapades were, and she had a way of making sure that references weren't going over the head of a newcomer. It's been years since I was a stranger to Menya or Pete, but I don't think I'll forget that talent for making people feel welcome or part of the group, rather than strangers.

Although I never met Menya, I have read just about everything on her website.
And her partner's work. I attended her memorial service and later met Pete and
her cats. There is a lingering spirit of Menya, her creative spirit and all that she
touched. I have felt this in her garden, her work and things she left behind.
Although there is a black hole, a vacuum left by her there is also a gift of
inspiration that I think will motivate some of us to stay focussed on the things
that are uniquely important in life.

I Knew Menya when I worked at UofT library.
I was shocked when I heard the news, from a library friend 2 months later.
My memories of her are her intense eyes that seem to look through me, and of her playing her harp and singing.
I was composing in a midi studio at that time and she was my muse at that time. I have three pieces I contribute to her, one is even called Menya.
If I could I would like to share them.

I Knew Menya when I worked at UofT library.
I was shocked when I heard the news, from a library friend 2 months later.
My memories of her are her intense eyes that seem to look through me, and of her playing her harp and singing.
I was composing in a midi studio at that time and she was my muse at that time. I have three pieces I contribute to her, one is even called Menya.
If I could I would like to share them.

Chris "soundqiwarrior@yahoo.ca"

Menya was one of the first people that I met when I moved to Toronto in 1993. I have the SCA to thank for that. Once they realized that I was a musician, they introduced me to the musicians of Eoforwick and the rest, as they say, is history.
I must admit that my relations with Menya have been, er, interesting; in fact, most of them have been of an erotic nature -- and usually involving Pete! :-)
One episode that sticks out (as a testament to her deliciously twisted and shameless sense of humour) was the time that she had asked me if I wanted her to send my regards to Pete. I responded (rather coyly) with the request that she do so in whatever manner she deemed appropriate. The next time I saw Pete, I discovered that she had in fact fulfilled my request -- and apparently in a most fascinating manner! For the sake of decency, I omit the details. :-)
Menya is one of the most colourful people I know and I will cherish fondly my memories of her.