More Kelly Clark, Less Cancer.

My friend Kelly Clark might be an angel on earth: there is so much evidence to back up my hunch.

She's an elegantly profane willowy woman with a heart of gold and a knack for turning everything she touches into magic. Metal, canvas, paint, stone, leather, hearts... everything.

She's fine and kind and talented and special. She throws her head back when she laughs (which she does often, all teeth and mane) and inspires the same humor in others. She smiths and paints like a goddess and makes a mean cup of coffee. She listens well, gives great advice, and even cheerleads. Despite all of these gifts she's maddeningly humble and grounded in service. She loves and is loved by so many people. So so so many.

She's also been (for the last five years) battling breast cancer that now metastasized to her beautiful bones.


Stage four.


There's a lot of suffering under that weight and you will likely never hear her say so because she is brave and she bears it. This advanced cancer saps her energy, her life and her savings.

While some parts of her treatment are covered by insurance, significant portions are not.   Important portions.  Treatments she needs.


Beyond just the cost of care, the loving, beautiful, amazing, humble, human Clarks need the gift of rest - of recovery  - of not eternally, daily scrambling to pay medical bills on top of all the usual bills.

Simply put - more treatment equals more Kelly.

More years of art, beauty, creation and her long-legged stride on the earth that loves her. More years of her real deal marriage, more years to be loving of and loved so well by Brad. By her family. By her friends. By you.

I love her.  I am selfish.  I am selfless.  I want more Kelly. I want more treatment options so that I can have more Kelly. If you are reading this, if you've met her for even five minutes, if you have watched her from afar, if you have been touched by her art or her smile or her heart beat magic - I bet you do, too.

Doesn't she take your breath away?

If she has ever shined her lanky light on you through her work, or through her smile or just her bright presence on this earth - I bet you want more. You want her to have more.  You want the world to have more of her.  

That's what I most wish to create through this fundraising campaign: a chorus of 'yes' for our Dove. Something that shines through the dark and doubtful three a.m. moments and says, "Rest, Love. You are held.  You are not alone."

Not only that she is not alone, but that there is a blindingly luminous web all around her, spanning countries and continents, lifting and supporting her right to breathe and bear witness to more years of life.

Oh, I honestly wish I could write this in a way that makes it less dramatic, but I can't.  Without exploring all options we will only get far less of her.

So. Let's spin, friends.

Let's wrap Kelly and Brad Clark in our warmest wishes and take action as a community to lift them out of grinding stress so that the most important work of healing can be the central focus. Let's have more Kelly.  More time, more life force, more Kelly.

Spread this far and wide, Please. Please.

Simplicity.  More Kelly, less cancer.

May it be so.  And so it shall be.