Kari: patron of the arts, monsters, ghouls, robots, dragons, and all things gremlin. He is the creator of the Giant Eye portrait in our basement, the enormous 'Making a Man' classic that scared the beegeebees out of me as a little kid, and some of the best Christensen family stories to date.
Because he is fifteen years my senior, I have discovered that the most successful way to get to know my oldest brother is through family sagas. Legends have traveled by word of mouth for years, fluctuating steadily like good stories always do. Today is his birthday, and as tribute to Mr. Christensen I would like to a pay a bit of personal homage to his genius.
My first memories of Kari emerge as a blurred shape bundled in blankets on one of the playroom beds. He was in high school, and I was three years old. Early in the morning I would, oh so stealthily, creep into the grand Housing of Toys, where I would plant myself in the corner for hours entertaining myself with who-knows-what... probably spazzing. I remember several basement occasions where tiny house spiders would reveal their whereabouts in the playhouse to stare me down beadily. Kari was fearless in the world of creepy crawlies, and to him I would appeal for safety from the Weird Ones.
Recently I encountered an old art notebook lodged somewhere inconspicuous in Mom's study. It had a few sketches from Kari as a very young man. On the back cover was monster with suction cup hands and giant eyes conversing avidly with a tiny, squiggly, leech-like creature. The characters were original, the scene was imaginative, and the art was exquisitely detailed. Kari has artist's hands and can turn even the simplest portrait of a devil into a masterpiece. I remember one birthday he speedily sketched out my present in a matter of minutes. It was a portrait of a ballerina-faerie creature intended to be me. As an awkward thirteen-year old girl, the picture itself was rather flattering as I was made aware of Kari's talent not only on the computer but also with pencil and paper. It was extraordinary.
Kari's talent does not stop at art. Two summers ago I paid him a most memorable visit to his and Cambria's home in Brooklyn. Never has New York City seen a more fashionable couple, nor a more perfect assemblage of objects in their apartment. Everything, from the bat mounted shadow box to Cambria's wide variety of vintage shoes screamed witness to creativity and art.
And that is my brother Kari. Star Wars, monsters, and dangerous experiments. He knows his way around the confusing subways. He is a taco connoisseur, a shopping guru, and a style junkie. So this one is for you Kari; possibly the most unique and artistically creative gem I've ever met.
