How To Be Kind

W.S. Milner made art and a community out of snark and love

By Evelyn McDonnell

The third act of Wendy Sue Milner-Calloway’s life began with a creative breakthrough and a harbinger of death. In 2004, she and her husband, David Calloway, moved from the San Fernando Valley to San Pedro. They had sent two children into the world and retired from their careers in the film industry. After publishing a novel in 2001, Wendy redirected her interest in mythological and sacred texts into delicate objects she sculpted in the room above the garage at their Point Fermin Craftsman home. 

One day, the couple walked into Point Gallery, a space on West 37th Street run by lifelong San Pedrans Victoria and Dominic Abbatiello. Inspired by the conversation and creative atmosphere, Wendy returned with a round wooden cheese box filled with small books and reliquaries made from polymer. The detailed, gilded objets d’art were inspired by illuminated medieval manuscripts, and each told a story — her narrative interests manifested in material form. 

“When she opened the box, I’m thinking with Vicki, ‘How good could these be? It’s San Pedro!’” Dominic recalls. “Then, when I saw them, I was whoa! These are really good.”

W.S. Milner, as she called herself, had her first showing at a two-women exhibit at Point (where The Den is now) in 2013. Half her work sold at the opening. A San Pedro art star was born.

But the triumph was bittersweet. Just as her visual artist career was unfolding, Milner began seeing double. She was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer in her cranium and was given five years to live. Not a person to follow orders, Wendy lived another 11 years, becoming a leader in the San Pedro arts community and a respected artist. 

The cancer finally won Aug. 9.

“SNARKY SENSE OF HUMOR”

Wendy Milner was born Dec. 5, 1948, in Lansing, Michigan. She grew up in Woodland Hills, California, and got a BA in English literature and MFA in theater from San Francisco State University. There, she met Calloway; they married in a Calabasas field in 1971. She designed scenery for stage and screen and wrote a novel, In Translation, that mystically interweaves the narratives of a medieval French woman and a 21st-century California skater boi.  

Milner was smart, quick-witted, a voracious reader, and had an edge. In college, her nickname was Sparky. “She had that snarky sense of humor,” her husband says. He recalls a “what if” conversation they had shortly before her final surgery. 

“Life is for the living; I want you to marry again,” Wendy told her partner of 54 years. “You’ve been domesticated way too long to go back out in the wild.”

 “Oh, really?” David responded.

 “Yeah. But I just don’t want you to be happy.”

The queen of snark was also a nurturer. As a late-blooming artist, Milner didn’t have the sanction or the sanctuary of the gallery system – so she built her own. She moved her studio to Angels Gate Cultural Center, where she became a member of the board and a founder of the annual fundraising party, which she envisioned as a gothic costume ball. She also cofounded the Mossy Rocks Poetry Society, a group that gathers regularly to read and share poetry, and the Sunken City Literary Society, a group dedicated to reading the winners of literary prizes. Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and friendships were also a central part of her emotional and social life. 

“She was hugely generous to vulnerable women, including many fellow artists,” says her friend and neighbor Heidi Tinsman. “She really took people under her wing and was especially helpful to us because she was so edgy and non-sentimental, but ultimately hugely kind.”

“TIME AS THE GIFT”

Raised by Christian Scientists, Milner didn’t believe in any particular religion but thought they were all interesting, particularly Tibetan Buddhism. “She was a firm believer in the idea that there’s a lot of different ways of defining reality,” says Calloway, author of If Someday Comes: A Slave’s Story of Freedom. “And none of it is any better than the other was her point of view. People live one way in this country, and they live that way in that country, and who’s to say?”

Spiritual inquiries inspired this hard-thinking woman’s work, perhaps because just as she was building her friendships and art, Milner was battling mortality. She lost the vision in her left eye, which she covered with either a patch or special glasses. And she suffered. 

But she created, and showed her work at galleries, including Michael Stearns. “Although she went through all the treatment and through all of that, she still kept her spirits, still kept doing her artwork,” says Victoria Abbatiello. “She was very motivated in that way. She didn’t waste any time. She really saw time as the gift and that she could produce things that she loved.”

Cornelius Projects on Pacific Avenue gave Milner a one-woman show, “Deciduous Gods,” in 2018. “Wendy was a devoted curious student of mythology and understood the myths and the gods had real world significance and implications, which resurfaced deciduously,” says Cornelius founder Laurie Steelink. “I had natural wood pedestals fashioned specifically for her works, which resulted in elevating the sculptures to a level of sophistication the gods and Wendy’s work demanded.”

As it happens, I was at Wendy’s first opening and bought one of her little books (my husband later built the pedestals for Cornelius Projects). I always enjoyed visiting her studio at Angels Gate and seeing how her work grew and evolved, wishing I could afford more of her physical pagan poetry. I knew about her cancer, but I found this short woman with white bangs and big glasses constitutionally resistant to pity or remorse. Not surprisingly, she was an acolyte of the Stoics. 

Milner had a third surgery Aug. 7. The operation took more than a day, and afterwards, the artist suffered a massive stroke. She never woke up. 

Milner’s life and death deeply impacted her San Pedro community. Folks who knew her as an artist, an organizer, a friend and a spouse texted, emailed and spoke their remembrances. 

TRIBUTES

“Curious & brilliant, bitingly honest, accomplished artist, Wendy Milner-Calloway gently reached out to me. We were both artists at Angels Gate. I tend to be reclusive, but I trusted her invitations and my life unfolded into a vivid, joyful experience daily! I read & attended with her many women friends the Sunken City Literary Society that she founded to discuss the current Pulitzer/Booker prize winners. Wendy would text poignant and thought-provoking poems from her morning reading — reading that I suspect helped her endure the terrible pain from the tumor pressing on her brain. Wendy reached out to know me later in our lives. I came to trust her, to share intimacies from our long lives as only women will. I came to love her deeply. Friends to the end, Wendy left me cherished new friends and a more vibrant relationship with my world.” Candice Gawne, human artist

“Wendy was and will always be a very close friend, heart-to-heart talks about life, the universe, and everything. She was and is a powerful, multi-faceted human being. One of her greatest pleasures was to spoil her grandkids rotten; she did it with such glee, those fortunate children will hold her in their hearts as long as they breathe. The list of Wendy is absurdly long, more talented than one person should be, and in such diverse areas. Rather than list who she is, what she is to me is a dear and trusted friend, and I love her and miss her. She was a force to be reckoned with.”  Phoebe Barnum, visual artist, Angels Gate Cultural Center

“Wendy was my dream neighbor and friend. Her intelligence, kindness and creativity meant we were treated to memorable meals, lovely art experiences and stimulating conversations. Our mutual love of Angels Gate Cultural Center gave us opportunities to work closely together on fundraising efforts. Wendy made everything joyful and engaging. I treasure every day spent in her company and carry her in my heart always.” Susan Davis, artist

“The AGCC community mourns the loss of Wendy Calloway, also known as multi-media artist W.S. Milner, who was a beloved and respected member of the San Pedro arts community with a long history at Angels Gate Cultural Center. A master of her craft, Wendy brought her spunky, unapologetic soul to vibrant, imaginative sculpture and ceramic work that drew from ancient history and legends to forge contemporary artifacts of human experience. Her artistic legacy and spirited presence will be deeply missed.” Amy Eriksen, executive director, Angels Gate Cultural Center

“Wendy was so smart and so interested in seemingly everything!  She knew Greek mythology inside and out, a constant inspiration for her art, a voracious consumer of medieval art history, poetry, and fiction of all kinds. … Wendy was sardonic and had a wicked sense of humor, always self-mocking as too hard-edged and needing to moderate her impulse to snarl and snip social situations and remind herself to ask “what would a kind person do?”  But, in fact, that was a big cover.  She was massively generous, an ultimate form of kindness.  In the neighborhood, she was always asking folks over to her gorgeous Craftsman, delighting in cooking a delicious meal.  Interested, always so interested, in whatever you were doing.” Heidi Tinsman, professor of history at the University of California, Irvine

“Wendy and David graciously threw our family a “New Neighbor Welcome party” as she called it, when we moved to the Point Fermin area. She made sure we were surrounded by other kind-hearted human beings, like her, and helped us into this amazing community. I think she was also excited that we were an interracial family like them. Often, we relied on Wendy and David to share their expert advice regarding our home, as we both have old Craftsmans. Looking back through our conversations, I’m reminded that Wendy was always truthful, witty, clever, and encouraging. I’ll always respect her tenacity to put her artistic work as a priority in her life, something I admire and want to take forward. Thank you, Wendy!” Denise Lopez, ceramics artist and owner of The Den

“If my discerning four-legged canine soulmate, Rockette, “el perro” Morton liked someone, I knew they were good people. Wendy Milner was one of those people. Upon entering building D at Angels Gate Cultural Center, where Wendy had an art studio, Rockette would always make a beeline to greet her. It helped that she had dog treats and a comfortable chair to sit in. She saw the special being in Rockette, and we saw the special being in Wendy.” Laurie Steelink, artist and founder of Cornelius Projects

“She had that ability to bring out the best in you. And I told her that one day. I said, you know, I didn’t know all this stuff about myself, but you saw it.” Victoria Abbatiello, artist.

“The last time I shared with Wendy was in her studio where she was fiercely working on six of her sculpted reliquaries. She was saying how urgent it was that she finish this work before she died. Her surgery was days away, and she told me how 11 years ago, she went to the doctor because one eye was seeing double. She said she didn’t want to get old and feeble and demented, so she was not scared. 

‘I had a great life,’ she said.

I told her I was feeling a little dizzy, so she gave me a chocolate Builder Bar, which I consumed. Then I asked for ice because I thought I was about to faint. She actually had ice in her studio in a little plastic bag, which I pressed to my neck as I lay on the floor. 

‘I wonder if it’s because I’ve been talking about death,’ she said. At the time, I thought it was just a warm day.

Strangely, the shock of her absence — the burst of bright energy gone — could suggest an afterlife. But she would hate me saying that.” Peggy Reavey, artist.