Lily Ordway
(1964 - 2012)

Lily was so many things: intellectually curious, verbally & visually daring, tenderhearted, generous, kind, a good friend. A poet, craftsman, and artist, she was verbal, visual, and physical. Her toolbox was loaded with everything from cameras & keyboards to precious metals & clever quips; and whether she was using a string of words or a string of beads, Lily simply got you thinking.

Born on February 24th, 1964 in Washington, DC, she was the youngest child of Girard & Marilyn Ordway (sister Lois, brother Douglas). We always knew she had a great imagination. When, as a small child, she was asked how she like a spicy bean dip, she quietly replied “it gives me dragon breath!” and then roared like a dragon. Attending the Norwood School, National Cathedral School, Leland Junior High School, and BCC High School, she made many friends who valued her quick, quirky sense of humor, and her unusual take on things. Her lovely singing voice gave her her first job as a paid soloist at All Saints Church, as well as the opportunity to perform at Wolf Trap for the Performing Arts.

Lily went on to St. Mary’s College of Maryland where she majored in poetry, and received a Bachelor of Art degree in 1986. She was thrilled to learn how to sail, and to have Alan Ginsberg say he liked her work. After college Lily bounced back to the family home in Chevy Chase. While working at the Washington National Cathedral, she discovered the joy of beadcraft and working with glass, saved a pile of money to do the Grand Tour of Europe and did it solo (loving Ireland the most). She decided to head west to study glassmaking, eventually winding up in San Francisco at the California College of Arts and Crafts. There she majored in jewelry/metal, and excelled, receiving a Certificate of High Distinction (BFA 1997) and the Sequoia Trust Scholar award. Lily continued her studies at SUNY (New Paltz), earning her MFA in 1999. Her senior thesis, "Dis-Dressed", used unconventional materials to construct garments that explored women’s body, gender, and social identities (themes common throughout her life).

After graduation, New York City. After 9/11, back to California. When she wasn’t working as an assistant for a number of artists and jewelers, Lily loved to cook, garden, and chat on-line with the growing legion of friends from around the world (including her nephew, Girard, and niece, Erin, swapping book & music recommendations, travel stories). She declared her mantra to be “Read Make Eat” (definitely a dig at Eat Pray Love). Five years ago Lily decided she needed a change of scenery and moved to Long Beach, California. Shortly thereafter, her body turned on her. At first it was thought that her kidneys had failed, but a catastrophic stroke in November of 2010 (which left her unable to communicate verbally, and hobbled physically) revealed Lupus. Lily demonstrated her true strength and just plain cussedness through so many complications, so many mountains to scale.

She died on July 27th, 2012, at the age of 48, finally succumbing to complications related to her hemodialysis. A memorial service will take place at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Chevy Chase on August 24th at 10:30 a.m.. In lieu of flowers expressions of sympathy may be given to the Lupus Foundation. Additionally, a bench will be dedicated to her memory at the Botanic Gardens in Palos Verdes by her California friends.

We love you Lily.

To leave your own Lily story click on "guest book" above, or create a "candle" on the right.

Looking for Connection

I know that we fill
the space around ourselves,
shaping it to the jagged
edge of teeth and smoothing
rough corners to fit
the depth of mouth, I know

we build personal
relationships with
washers and dryers, not
noticing the silence
until the droning
nocturne ends.

It is a song--a cosmic jigsaw
puzzle taking irregular
pieces and pressuring them
until they lie obedient, but bent--
understand that nothing exists
alone and suspended.

Our minds point paths
to find our way home and ask
"What is wrong with this picture"

and know that
there no space left
to float aimlessly in.
The void named and filled
by void.

Not merely random,
the freckles on my face
aligning a constellation.