Marian was family

Marian Griffiths was loved. She was family. I met Marian like so many others at the Sculpture Center on 69th Street. I had just moved to New York and Matt Freedman recommended that I go up and introduce myself. She sat me down next to her behind the front desk and made me feel at home. She looked at my work, listened to my stories, showered me with praise and attention, and made me feel special. She made everybody who walked through that door feel special. I used to visit her every week. Marian was incredibly supportive of my burgeoning career. She included me in several shows at the Sculpture Center and at Long Island University. She hooked me up with several commissions, writing opportunities, and sales. She would come to my openings and events around town. After she left the Sculpture Center we continued to see one another. We would meet for drinks, go out to dinner, and would regularly see museum shows together. I suspect that she had seen the same shows with others, but she never let on. She enjoyed my excitement and enthusiasm. I used to feel awful knowing that she had arrived and would return home by bus, but that was her way. Marian was tough to the end. She would always bring my family gifts, and regularly gave me books to read. I recently finished reading Treasure Island to my son- a gift from Marian. She would buy me lunch, listen to my problems, and give me encouragement. It was always about me when we were together. She was unconditionally supportive. It was tough getting anything out of Marian- art world opinions or life stories. She was always vague and tough to pin down. Her favorite story about me- which she loved to retell, was Robert Chamber's description of me repelling down the side of my six story building into a smoke filled courtyard some 20 years ago. I suppose my favorite story about Marian was hearing about Robert Chambers riding her around on the back of his motorcycle. The laughs we used to have. I will miss her laugh and her smile. Marian made all of us feel good.