Durango artist Karen Pittman died Tuesday, Nov. 10. An artist of many mediums, and an educator to many kids and adults, Karen – or KP, as her friends called her – was always part of the art conversation. She was perpetually inquisitive, constantly teaching herself about many subjects, whether it was about body, spirit, mind or nature. Most of all, she was an artist who included everyone in her talent. She had deep conversations about art with people who were 8 years old or with people who had been dead for generations. Karen knew many people throughout her life, but the family she belonged to was the clan of the artist. We asked some of her friends to share memories of Karen and how she influenced their lives or their art – or both. Here are their own words:

Sarah Allen

Karen Pittman, or KP as I like to call her, was by her very nature a work of art.

Upon the canvas of one life is an expression of a true Renaissance woman, a true artist, a true friend, a true human. Not only was Karen a wordsmith, she was a carpenter of creativity. She was a true master of viewing the world through a tapestry of kaleidoscopes. Always reaching through time, space and the in-betweens and coming out the other side with a twinkle in her eye.

Beyond the shadows she brought contrast into the mundane, color to the monotonous, shape and form to dreams and visions, perspective to the spiritual and sublime, stars and stripes to the political.

Karen was a master, a master of living, of finding the marrow of all the nuts and bolts, of penetrating potential in all things great and small, of crafting a life of being and loving and always becoming a work of art.

Her work, “Something Beautiful Remains,” speaks to her true nature as artist, but more importantly, as a true human, carving out a kaleidoscope of vision and dream, clever wit, craftsmanship and artistic perspective while weaving past, present and future realms into one vision.

Without leading the way, she became the way. Even in dying, she leaves us with grace and compassion, each one of us missing her artistic and clever view of the world.

Her legacy will forever live in all the lives she touched in the way we wonder and in the way we wander in our own perpetual uncoverings of our own works of art.

Keep it simple, kids, and dig deep! Love ever.

Maureen May

I have been trying and trying to remember the first time I met Karen, but it is not coming to me. I usually have no problem picturing the first encounter I had with my close friends, but that occasion with Karen eludes me. After some thought, though, it makes sense.

Karen had an uncanny ability to make you feel as though you were lifelong friends within 15 minutes of meeting her. I witnessed it many times throughout our friendship, watching her almost mesmerize someone she had just been introduced to, making them feel comfortable and open with her, conversing as if they had shared many adventures together.

I will miss that and so many other things about Karen: Her wonderful; thought-filled artwork on which she would spend numerous hours working it out in her head, researching and reworking it until it was where it needed to be; her arresting interpretations of your dreams; her playful and unselfish teaching; her captivating stories; and laughing and laughing and laughing with her.

Oh, Karen could get on your nerves from time to time, bringing out someone she called “bad puppet.” But she would always let you know what she was thinking, where she was coming from. Karen was not perfect, but as Goldilocks would say, “She was just right.”

Marilyn Pittman

When we were growing up, Karen was the initiator, always creating. She built a penny carnival for the neighborhood kids there in Belleville, Illinois, a suburb of St. Louis. The one that stands out is the wooden pinball game with marbles and slots. For Halloween one year, she had us build a spooky tour of creepy experiences both inside and out of the house. She laid a 10-foot metal ladder flat on the ground and made the kids walk through blindfolded! And she charged them money! So from an early age, she was creative, mischievous and enterprising. She created an environment for me to grow up in that paved the way for my career as a performer. It’s this environment – just being around her – that helped those she loved to excel and try new things.

Jules Masterjohn

The first time I met Karen, she was wearing a beret – a black beret. And a black spaghetti-strap sequined top. We met at a gallery where she was showing her collage/painting, “God Good Goods,” a commentary on consumerism as a major religion in America, which visually references an American flag with lyrics from “America the Beautiful” printed on it. In another piece, “Oh Say,” she rewrote the lyrics of “The Star-Spangled Banner” and hand-printed the new lyrics onto an actual American flag. These were her critiques of contemporary American society. Not judgmental in tone and never one to pointedly point a finger, Karen’s protest art expressed her observations of a greed-consumed culture through wit, good design and deep caring for our world. Another time she could hardly contain herself, so excited to share a newfound object sculpture she had created – a cane standing upright inside a vintage oil can. Her protest art packed a playful punch.

Karen packed a playful punch. Her ideas were profound, her expressions free and her lifestyle eccentric. There are few humans who can pull off living their life as art, and Karen was one.

John Grow

Karen and I were sitting on the floor, laughing so hard that neither of us could have gotten up. We were trying to name a pair of collaboration paintings that we had just finished at the Art Room. Of course, every abstract painting is a Rorschach test. Each of us named what we saw in the nonsense paintings, and the other had a one-liner about the revelation. That much laughter is a rare gift.

Mary Puller

I remember first meeting Karen Pittman, sensing a wonderfully vibrant human being, genuine. As time went by, I began to know her, her unique observations, her humor, her resilience, her inimitable optimism. I sensed she had known adversity, but she did not allow it to shadow her living this life.

It is rare to encounter an individual who moves forward, able to honestly accept life and all its challenges with equanimity. I never saw in her eyes sadness or regret. Is this acceptance of life in all its transformations enlightenment? She maintained always an enthusiasm for life, a brightness. I believe her spirit will long remain with us.

Alyssa Graves

I live in a very small room with only a few items hanging on my walls or sitting on my shelves to remind me about who I am. I have pictures or objects from people I have loved deeply, who I always carry in my heart. I made a painting about 15 years ago with Karen Pittman at her studio late one night. It was one of the very first times someone gave me materials (a board, paint, brushes) and invited me to just paint what I feel. It wasn’t just her invitation, it was how she held space for me to explore and to open my heart. Although I’d always been creative and curious about making art, I often felt unskilled and insecure about making something “meaningful” or even “interesting.” I had (and still have) deep admiration for those from whom art flowed freely.

This single experience was a major turning point in my life. In some new, almost miraculous way, Karen had introduced me to myself as an artist ... and then so much more.

I’m smiling with memories ... her twinkling eyes, mischievous laugh, trickster ways, her mind, her exquisite, beautiful mind. And most of all, her sweet smell. It always made me feel like I was home. I know she was in the swelling currents of love when she passed.

Thank you, Karen Lynn Pittman, for letting me in ...