In Memory of

Annora

Clapp

Obituary for Annora Clapp

Annora left this world abruptly and accidentally in hospital, to the enduring heartbreak of partners and friends, family, and communities.

Annora came into this world at home, mid-argument. From the start, Annora was an opponent of convention and rules.  Any one of us was no match for her will, head on. We took turns.

Annora’s spirit was big, strong, and joyful. She loved to play with reactions. Her art was far beyond her age and usually beyond the imagination of ‘official’ adults. She would inevitably, ineluctably, press The Big Red Button  in any circumstance.

Annora was a generous friend.

Being comforted by Annora was rich and deep and wholly healing. Raven-like, Annora collected things

from the people in her life, and kept these ‘shiny objects’ – mugs, forks, sweaters – all around the nest.

Strangers were friends not yet met, her whole life.

Last October, Annora brought three mandarin oranges along – one for each of the two of them, and one for the new friend they might just meet. Annora wanted the world to be better than it was, and battled with courage, chocolate and good coffee against institutional violence, toxic capitalism, and oppression. These are difficult battles, and Annora felt the wounds of others deeply. There are many losses in the battles against inhumanity.

The list of those that mourn is very long. Annora is survived by their partners Maddy and Ethan, mother Shauna, sister Elysha (Colin), brother Keenan, other mother Tara (John), nephews Tristan and Charlie, grandparents Ken and Patricia, great aunt Holly, and father Robert (Laverne), and her extended family.

They are deeply mourned by friends Emily, Hunter, Andrea, Jemma, Innana, Scarlett, and many more across many communities.

We are deeply grateful for the

July 16

I stand just above the waters that raised me

(Waves lapping like gentle aunts, winds holding my eyeballs with care)

I stand and feel the deep peace of this place I ride on this lake, no matter which direction I travel,

I am going home.

Home like two feet held in sweet warm mud

Home like sun-hot arm-rests on a broken chair

Home like the most beautiful broken smile,

the kind that travels through your ears throat elbows toes

Any way I travel,

 I am walking into an unlocked house

I am drinking coffee on an untidy porch

I am eating raspberries, bright red, still warm

I am always covered in dog hair.

Every day is another word in a love letter to this place.

Nelson. Kaslo. Crawford Bay. Blewett. Gray Creek. Riondel. Argenta. Balfour.

This lake is where my bones float, against all odd numbers

Where my hunger is not affected by an empty bank account

Where the light flows around the mountain-outlines,

the ridges black, the tree-linebright blue

and

Where a girl who’s just another fuckin’ artist

Who laughs too loud and can never stay clean

feels like a round peg round whole

feels like a leaf in a lazy eddy

floating forward on the waters that raised me.

Annora Margaret Clapp, 2017




We are deeply grateful for the wisdom, grace and comfort that have come to us from our extended family, from this community and from Annora’s communities.

We expect to have a celebration of life in the spring.