tee corinne was an american original. she was pretty, she was gracious, and she was an irresistible force. she had style, she had talent, she had impact. the only thing that could stop her was a direct meteor strike. cancer couldn’t do it. she’s still going.

the greatest regret of her life (aside from not living to see her show at the museum of modern art) was that she wasn’t an american lesbian in paris in the 1920s. to a large extent, she patterned her life on that milieu, and she did her damnedest to make wherever she was, as much as possible, paris in the twenties.

in paris, all the interesting people knew one another. tee was a world champion introducer, collaborator, and instigator of collaborations. she did big things, and she encouraged everyone around her to do big things as well. she wasn’t interested in being famous alone. what she really wanted was to be famous with all her friends.

and so she taught art as well as made it, and she wrote, and she nagged. everybody has to write an autobiography. tee thought history was important, and she wanted the historians to have plenty to work with when this southern oregon community was finally recognized as this century’s “paris in the twenties.”

so: get going. you’ve got your marching orders. write. paint. sculpt. draw. make movies. get famous.

if you don’t, tee will certainly haunt you.

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