I found and fell for Chris Boger during a hard time in my own life. I was 43 years old and trying to figure out how to escape a bad marriage. I was lost, angry, confused, and ashamed, working long hours at contract janitorial work to pay for a family of four. My wife and I had not gotten along well for several years, and I did not know what to do. I started having chest pains and went in to see my doctor. She told me that she did not know why I was having chest pain, but that it likely meant that my stress level was too high. "Figure out what is causing you so much stress, and get away from it. If you don't, you are probably going to die. This is NOT good."
Strong words. Feeling trapped, I enrolled in an introductory ceramics course (FINA 260, Intro to Ceramics) at Indiana University in the summer of 2005 just as a way to get away from a toxic partner and do something creative with my hands. This was a life-changing decision. My instructor was Malcolm Mobutu Smith, who was to become one of my closest personal friends. I learned to hand-build basic things, make coil pots, carve and decorate clay, and ultimately to throw on the potter's wheel. I sat shoulder-to-shoulder with a young ceramics student named Matt Fiske, who was just beginning his journey in ceramics. We learned to wood-fire, and to salt fire, and to raku fire. I did not know it at the time, but the peace and beauty that were coming into my life began in those days.
There were others in that class, too, who became friends and with whom I have stayed in touch. That summer held many pleasant evenings in the studio, listening to Brian Eno with a young woman named Lauren and just making things with clay. I reached a point where I could confidently create a cup or bowl to suit myself, and began to study glazes a bit. I was happy in there for the first time in a long while. I began to feel as if I was not dying.
One day as I walked toward the studio in Fine Arts, I turned a corner to find a lovely woman bent over at the waist, rifling through a box full of books. "Well, hi there!" I recall saying cheerfully, and Chris stood up and looked me in the eye for the first time. She gave me a bright, beautiful smile and stuck out her hand. I asked who she was, introduced myself, and told her how much I was enjoying taking the intro ceramics class from Malcolm. We chatted only for a second, and she explained she was moving from the small studio across the hall into the bigger one right behind me. My memory of that moment is strong. I felt like someone shined a light in my eyes and punched me square in the gut. As naive as it sounds now, I did not realize I had fallen in love at first sight.
Weeks passed, and whenever I saw Chris I would say hi and ask how she was. She showed me her studio and her work, and talk about sundry things. That fall I took an intro course, "Intro to Informatics", from a professor named Mehmet Dalkalich, who had us listening to a Thomas Friedman book on CD, "The World is Flat". I was filled with wonder in those days, as I had decided to work myself out of my terrible marriage by re-training and finishing my undergrad degree. I did not really have a plan to leave, since I had 4 children, but at least I thought if I could improve my work situation, I'd be better able to figure out what to do.
The fall of 2005 and spring of 2006 were spent taking more classes, doing my contract work on the side, and - usually daily - stopping in to chat with Chris. As smitten as I was, I did not know how to go past a professional relationship, and in any case my wife and I still had not filed for divorce. I did not want to do anything to frighten away this marvelous woman who gave so freely of her time and attention. Silly me, I did not realize that she had me figured out - thoroughly - from about the third visit. I thought I was stuck being just a friend, and we had had many hypothetical discussions - about feminism, control, the concepts of marriage, careers, nearly every subject one might imagine. She had, however, never married, and in fact had not been in a serious relationship for some time. She told me she had pretty much given up. Chris at that time was 46 or 47 years old.
In the summer of 2006, we had fallen into a pattern where I would stop in and compare the day, chatting happily over coffee in the Fine Arts café or sometimes walking over to grab a nibble or a coke at the Union. One day, she mentioned she was going away for the summer to teach at an "art thing". I remember being excited for her. Chris always said, this is a resumé line, and resumé lines are expensive. This time, she told me, I actually get paid. It's a good gig.
It was during the summer of 2006 that I admitted to myself that I was in love with Chris. I had known all along, but was unable to admit it. Kids? A marriage? Good grief, not an acceptable situation! But I had known for a couple years that my current marriage was not going to last. With Chris away teaching, the summer dragged hard. I ached just to talk to her, to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to tell her jokes and listen to her stories.
When she came back in the fall, I determined to figure out how to get away from the bad situation I was in, and give myself a chance to be with this beautiful, charming woman. This blog is an effort to document the time I had with her, to expand it to include the things I learned about her, and her friends and family; to show the pictures I have of her life both before and during the time I met her; and to try to also mix in the images of her work and talents as a ceramic sculptor. Too, I will document how her struggles with depression changed over time, and how we fought that terrible disease together until one day she was unable to hold on any longer. When I can write the words, I will tell the story of how I failed her in her darkest hour of need.
My heart is broken, as are the hearts of her many friends, colleagues, and family. Telling her story will at least let me share with them what Chris often told me were the happiest days of her life - the days she chose to spend with me.
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Documenting a Beautiful Life
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