Alane Rollings

Alane was the miracle of my year in exile at a UofC think tank, sometime in the seventies. At a street corner she must have spotted the forlorn creature, and seemed immediately to sense some affinity. With her characteristic shy self-assurance she addressed the stranger who felt and thought he was experiencing an apparition: an almost unearthly beauty, "eyes wide shut" as if she were coming from some infinitely far and alien continent - and yet she seemed to invite me, with an innocent...

Alane Rollings was not only an exquisite poet, but a great personal friend, who infused with grace and poetry everything and everyone she touched. She was not put off by my mathematics but intrigued and amused by it. She was a guiding star in my life.

Discovering Alane's poems and meeting her in the 80s became a life highlight. She was one-of-a-kind, experimental, bold yet vulnerable, empathetic, and extraordinarily generous. I was fortunate to be able to publish her book, The Struggle To Adore, at Story Line Press. I loved and adored her. Om mani padme hum.

Alane was my "big sister" when I was a new student at Country Day and she kindly spent lots of time with me, even taking me for rides in her father's Corvette. I wish we had re-connected in later years, as I write poetry too. I'm so sorry she's gone. --Kathleen Brewin Lewis