Van der Weyden, Melusine. (age 47) December 17, 2017 New York, NY.
With the greatest sorrow we announce the sudden death of our dear, close friend and fellow persona Melusine Van der Weyden this past Sunday shortly past 9:30 AM at an AirBnB in Brooklyn. A talented poet, writer, muse and free spirit, Melusine left us on her terms while living the life she decided to live long ago during her childhood on the North German heath, the life of an unfettered traveler leaving no border or boundary uncrossed and never letting any moss grow under her feet. Melusine was born on December 5, 1970 in her great-aunt’s thatched roof cottage in the small town of Hadenhogen, Lower Saxony. Her birth came as quite a shock to her family who soon disappeared on the moor while gathering heather and juniper for their special celebration schnapps in honor to this day. To her final day she claimed a genetically pre -determined fondness for high percentage drinks infused with those familiar aromas. Under the guidance and care of her Ur-Tante Erna she had a lovely childhood roaming the fields and banks of the Aller Valley. It was in a bank, the local branch of the Volksbank, where she met her late husband, the retired sheep farmer Alfons Fuchs. Like the groom, a short union lasting only hours, after which Melusine with her inheritance and widow’s pension in hand left the small town for the scent of Paris in the springtime. Melusine spoke fondly of her times in the City of Lights, returning time and again to indulge in the pleasures she found there, at times taking a few she found during her travels with her. She would often be found wandering the streets of major metropolitan areas around the globe. Most recently, between her jaunts to and fro she laid her Louboutin’s and Birkin bag on a shelf in the Rhode Island home-studio of the painter Robyn Thomas where she sensed a need for her presence. Even during her absences the essence of her presence was continually felt by the other studio personas, Franz Ignatius Walsh and Petra Nimm. Melusine had left the studio for another journey into the unknown only two days before her unexpected death caused by a severe hemorrhage resulting from a crudely performed rhinoplasty she had the previous weekend at a bogus beautification clinic upstate. Aside from her fellow Providence-based personas and a sack of papers containing her most recent poems and writing, Melusine leaves nothing behind but the scent of her favorite perfume. A short memorial service will be held for her in early January, TBD.