My dear departed oldest daughter Anna lived, breathed and endlessly demonstrated throughout her short, tragic and most creatively fulfilling life her multifaceted artistry and endlessly creative visions, along with her ongoing desire to help others feel better, do better, and creatively actualize themselves. This is the core of my work and my calling as a writer and healer, and what I feel we are all responsible to support for ourselves, and all others, equally. I believe we truly are our own and our sisters’ “keepers” as the most cherished, essential part of ourselves and our way of doing and being in the world – our creative visions and artistic expressions.

I can’t help but seem hyperbolic when I write about Anna. But the thing is, I’m not being hyperbolic. Anna just was so very, very much … Anna was my hero. I completely and unabashedly idolized her, my big sister. From the earliest that I can remember, I always wanted to be around her, I always wanted to be like her. Life with Anna took on this magical quality. It was exciting, with endless possibilities just around the bend … life with Anna was just better. It was as if wherever she went, Anna brought along a personal spotlight and there was always enough room just for you. Her light was generous and she, a most magnanimous sun…

In October of 2013 I was the beneficiary of Anna’s trademark open-door policy. She decided – with absolutely no prompting on the part of yours truly – that I could call her home my home … Our conversational and comedic chemistry was (re)kindled, that is, sparked. If I had forgotten how much I missed that, well – it was quickly part of my daily life. For the first time in more than a year (maybe 2 years!) I felt like – you know – like a member of a society…and more importantly, a community. The community was Ethan, Elijah, Evelyn, [Anna], and her husband. Laughter, the jolt of children playing and screaming and adoring me, and lots of good food were some of the ingredients of her home, and what easily became my home during a low point in my life. I’ll always cherish that time, and Anna was the executor of that opportunity.

I want to say how much it means to me that [Anna] and Matt hired me to work for them as a mother’s helper for 30 hours a week during the summer of 2009. Evelyn and Elijah were only about 6 weeks old, and Ethan was just shy of 2 years old. Looking back on it now, I understand that this experience, being my first experience working in childcare, is why I am so passionate about having a career working with children. When I started working that summer I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but having Anna there showing me, and by simply being there as well, made me feel so much more calm. I truly believed that I could do the job. That feeling has stayed with me in every other position I have held in childcare, including when I continued working for them part time while I was in college…

In my experience, artists are usually performers or writers/behind-the-scenes movers and shakers. Anna was a rare instance of both. Not only was she a talented performer – for example, I knew very early on that she was very capable of “delivering” my music to audiences in ways that I could not – but she was also a nuanced writer. Her diction and literary/cultural knowledge blew me away the moment I met her. She had a singular ability to absorb culture around her and to render it back using an inimitable palette all her own. Her ability as a writer, whether lyricist, poet, or essayist, was a central component in her formidable creative arsenal. In addition, she was passionate about social justice, particularly for women and anyone disenfranchised, teenage girls being a prime example. Having this contest to encourage expression and art for art’s sake bear her name will bring two of her prime soul drivers into convergence – her unwavering allegiance to her own individual artistic purpose and her (both inherent and deliberate) altruism.

Mommy used to play with me. Her favorite color was red. [She was] [f]un, funny, and loving.

[I remember] Mommy playing mega blocks with me.
After school, Mommy took us to Dunkin’ Donuts and took us to the Strong Museum [of Play].
I like when she held me when I was swimming; it’s because I would sink.

Everyday when we go to [childcare center], she would bring us donuts. We baked brownies and cookies together. Everyday when we came home, we would bake something. We made a project of making stuff so we could play and pretend-fight together. I sat on her lap and she read me a book. She was nice.

… A few words can hardly sum up such a complex, intelligent and fine person… [A]bout poetry, I will say she loved it, was awesomely well read, and had a fine creative imagination … she herself sang wonderfully, wrote and acted. I could hardly mention a book or writer she had not read or didn’t know about. We could talk for hours on these subjects and many others. She had a wonderful sense of humor and satire. I never had to explain things to her; she always caught right on. She was kind, funny and, as I have said, extremely intelligent indeed. A poetry contest is a fine tribute to her and I am sure she would have been proud and happy, not only to have it, but to give other young writers an opportunity too. She was one of the best people, without a doubt, I have ever known.

Some of my fondest memories from my childhood include Anna. From sleepovers to family dinners, to movie outings, to trips to the beach, we spent many of our early years together. We were cousins first but also friends … I will always remember her devotion to her family, love of music, talent, and boisterous personality. May her spirit and memory be carried on in her three beautiful children.

I met Anna when I was just 3 years old. We didn’t just play. We sang. We danced. We dressed up. We performed. I knew at a young age that it wasn’t my destiny to perform beyond our usual shenanigans, but I knew it was Anna’s destiny. I knew she would sing, write, act, and enthrall others far and wide. Mostly, I knew she was special because of how words accumulated within her, and burst forth with feeling, meaning and passion. She absorbed every detail of each message she read or heard, and her mind actively reached for those ideas, thoughts, and opinions for dissection in every conversation and every word she put to paper. Being on the receiving end of her conversations or written word was like looking through a prism – so many layers and such an intricate design. Her love for the people in her life was very deep, and she was an ardent cheerleader for all those she loved, constantly building them up and inspiring them. A poetry contest created in Anna’s honor will inspire young women to continue their passion via connection to words and other beings. For this, Anna would fervently share her immense gratitude and hope.

Just how very REAL Anna was. Real to share what was on her heart and mind and in her soul. Real in being there for friends. Just plain REAL–that is what sticks with me so much. In her amazing acting in HS that is how she “played the parts so well” because she knew how to be real. To be real and so authentic in every way. Now of course, in this world we share, being real isn’t easy at all. Almost the more real we are the harder it is and Anna’s an example of that. Being real is putting yourself on the line in each moment for yourself and those near and far to you. Anna’s realness stuck with me as we watched movies in Brighton homes, shared fried food and friends meeting up in the big booths at the Princess Restaurant late at night when we probably were supposed to be doing hw. Friendly’s restaurant and Clover Lanes bowling alley parking lot late-night rituals of being a teen. Back stage watching her perform in such a holy way. Anna left so much magic in so many of us and I’m so grateful that our connection was strong in HS. A Real, reality lifesaver.

Anna was one of those rare people who had a commanding presence yet was remarkably attentive to the needs of others. She had a sharp tongue when it came to things she found unjust, but spoke kindly and offered caring advice to loved ones in need. Among our group of friends, she was always the counselor. She made those around her feel special. Anna always knew the right thing to say and it showed in her friendships, her acting, and her poetry. Some of my fondest memories from high school were sitting in the Princess restaurant drinking cup after cup of weak coffee, pretending to do school work and writing haikus. Hers of course were always the best – clever and beautiful. Her natural talents were fueled by her love of beauty and language. Anna really wanted to share it with the world. Anna’s conviction was palpable and even contagious. She raised the bar for those around her – publishing a book of poetry while still in high school, writing and directing plays before any of us could drive, eclipsing all of us with her singing solos (though she would never admit to it). Anna’s spirit is a force that lives on in all who have been fortunate to know her.

Anna was always larger than life. Even from the time she was a little girl her personality was alive and energetic. She loved to write and direct plays in her basement family room. She would sing and dance and just come alive. As she grew, her intelligence was incredible and her thoughts were so expansive. She was an avid reader of everything and could write with such wit and depth. Her musical talent was earth shaking. Her voice, her sultry voice, would give me goose bumps and bring tears to my eyes because you could hear and feel the emotions she was expressing. But what she will most be remembered for is her three beautiful children she brought into this world. She loved each of them with her whole heart. And they loved her. She truly enjoyed teaching them about music and life. Her love is eternal. Anna I’ve known you a lifetime and your energy and spirit is still here. I remember you every time I hear someone with a deep boisterous laugh. Love you.

Anna Price was an amazing performer, singer and bandleader. When she stepped in front of the mic on stage or in the studio she had the rare ability to connect directly to the listener. She didn’t simply transmit notes and words but feelings, states of mind and emotion. She could have sang the phone book and you’d be riveted. She used this talent to take her band The Silver Lining to the upper echelons of the Cambridge/Boston music scene in the brief few years they were active. The two records I was lucky enough to make with Anna, [her husband] Matt and The Silver Lining are among my proudest productions. Anna was also an excellent conversationalist. Fluent in politics, history, art, philosophy, sociology, psychology, literature and of course poetry and music. She was always willing to engage and go deep but always ready with a laugh and encouraging word in case things got too serious or heavy. Finally Anna was a wonderful friend and partner. Always willing to listen and empathize, to laugh or cry. She was so giving with her love and support, time and talent. The exchange of ideas and shared passion one witnessed when working with Anna and Matt showed a relationship worthy of envy. I wish she were still here but her writing and recordings will live forever.

Anna Price with just her broad smile grabbed your attention from the moment you met her. It was the fall of a new school year when Anna Price a jubilant two and a half year old, and her mother bounced joyfully into my office at the Jewish community Centers early childhood center. As a brand new student she was a standout right from the beginning. Her over the top, precocious personality evident from the get go. In her classroom she was well liked and popular with the other young students, and teachers. Certainly not shy. When it came to any kind of class skit or songfest Anna was right there front and center ready to belt out a song, or to narrate a story. The song that she was most famous for at that time was her rendition of Tomorrow from the show Annie. She sure could belt that tune out, and she did. As the years went by, I was able to observe her wonderful scope of many other Talents emerge, through the lens of being a family friend. Her depth of understanding and ability to write or discuss many deep and complex topics, was very evident as she became proficient in those areas as well; and her talent for music and musical theater continued through high school and college …

Anna burst onto the stage of my life when she was in sixth grade. Or should I say that I quietly walked onto the stage of her life? I was the teacher for small groups of gifted students who were pulled out of reading class to pursue projects of their own choosing along a theme of my choosing. Our theme for the year was the 50s and 60s. Looking back, I can only imagine Anna’s dawning realization of opportunity. Unbeknownst to me, Anna had been gathering her friends, neighbors and siblings to stage plays … for years. As she explored and turned over possibilities, the others in her group waited patiently to be organized. After a few weeks, Anna presented me with a finished script and asked if her group could stage the play. Anna’s play was “loosely based on the life of Marilyn Monroe.” I was delighted, and she set to work casting, coaching and rehearsing fellow students, reviewing ideas for costumes and the set. There was pathos. Anna’s play followed the lines of Marilyn Monroe’s childhood through foster homes and an orphanage, certainly a very grim upbringing. But there was also humor. I can still picture the two boys Anna dressed in kitschy evening dresses to play foster sisters. The play was staged in the school auditorium for the parents. From the opening to the final bow, Anna directed with confidence and authority. The adults in attendance laughed in amazement and appreciation. Her next play was about the Beatniks, A Beatnik. Anna would play the Beatnik. She was very serious about her costume; she inhabited the character: black turtleneck sweater, black beret, dark glasses, sandals, bongo drums. Although we didn’t stage the play, what stays with me was Anna’s precocious understanding of what was best in the Beatnik movement. To her, a Beatnik was an artist, an intellectual, a non-conformist. A Beatnik was a poet perhaps, definitely a person full of intense conviction, solitary, spiritual. In a powerful conclusion, she lifted us up. A Beatnik, Anna said, could live in any time, in any place. This poet, this artist, this intellectual and non-conformist, was Anna.

I knew Anna. And to know her was to love her. Anna was poetry and prose personified. She was the fifteen year old in my English 11 class who couldn’t soak up enough Twain. And Shakespeare. And Fitzgerald. Hers was the color-blind and unconditional friendship of the child, Huck Finn. Hers was the magnanimous and forgiving heart of Prospero. Hers was the forever love of Jay Gatsby. Like John Ciardi’s poems, Anna didn’t need to “mean”: she simply was. Anna was wisdom and introspection, the courage to act in light of both, and the humility that characterizes those who are truly the wisest among us. She was the AP senior who at sixteen already knew Hamlet’s anguish. Ahab’s burning desire to grasp the ungraspable, and Prufrock’s struggle to eat–or not to eat–that peach. Anna’s life was poetry and prose in motion. Hers were the heroic couplets, the tragic heroine’s soul-searching soliloquies, and the Romantics’ ode to immortality. Anna believed in the green light. Anna was gifted with a voice capable of music–so far above any scale and so deep beyond the songs of most mere music-makers — that to hear her sing was to fall forever in love with “Bali Hai”. Anna was a young woman whose joie de vivre a teacher may encounter once in a lifetime. If s/he is very fortunate. And exceptionally blessed. Anna grew to become a mother whose beloved children she placed first and foremost above any/all personal wishes, hopes, and aspirations. All of which I have no doubt Anna would have made happen sooner than later. Because Anna was Anna. In perpheral blues. She lived green and golden. All of this I know. As I knew her. And I loved her.

… I was so humbled by her intelligence, talent, and empathy for humankind. She was such a presence in the classroom–all of the other students looking to her for insights into the texts and for help growing their own ideas. She was also very humble, always aware that her perspective of what we were talking about depended on her unique experience in the world, and therefore she was always very cautious not to undermine or dismiss other perspectives. She wanted to make sure everyone had a voice; at the same time, she fiercely stood up to any perceived injustices. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind … it was just that she did so so gently and carefully that she never alienated anyone. I think when the other students who disagree with her listened to her, they felt both validated and encouraged to rethink their own positions. That is, in my opinion, a real gift: to challenge those who disagree with you to be better and stronger thinkers. I had no doubt she would do amazing things in this world; I often told her she should pursue teaching …

I first heard Anna’s voice in the summer of 1995, I was 17 years young, and she much wiser at 18. Our soon to be place for higher education had an algorithm for pairing roommates, first take a double room that sleeps two, find three girls from the same state and abracadabra, magic made. A lack of square footage made up for in intensity and sincerity. I could tell by our first phone call that we’d be a match. Thank you Emerson College for showing me you could instantly love a complete stranger and bond by proximity. In those first few days and nights of orientation it felt like our natural purpose was to learn as much about one another as fast as possible while simultaneously living out our most liberating teenage adventure yet. Anna’s sense of self was rich and honorable even in those precarious days. She loved to read and discuss literature, poetry, movies, song lyrics; Anna loved to love, to connect, to be understood. When you could spend a night connecting with Anna you too felt understood. A gift not many in this world will give you. Twenty years have passed and I see now that the friendship Anna gave to us all was the most precious gift not only because of her soulful integrity and consistent genuine nature but because these treasures were stolen, hijacked with no notice. Goodbyes never whispered, gratitude unspoken, my friend of deep understanding I simply cannot understand where or why you had to go so soon. Anna’s love was limitless but her time in our arms limited. Her writing, music, but most of all her beautiful children, are the living memory of Anna’s goodness and grace.