Remembering Jessica McMillan, an Artist Whose Light Will Never Fade

It is rare to find those true, genuine people. The ones who make friends wherever they go. Who listen without judgment, who inspire you to do better, who can make you belly-laugh and who hold you in warmth when you cry. Who exude a radiant, unbreakable light.

We lost one of those rarities when Jessica Sidonie McMillan passed away in a Denver house fire on July 7. The 31-year-old visionary artist and muralist is survived by her mother, Risa McMillan; her father, Mark McMillan; her brother, Lucas McMillan; her maternal grandmother, Sidonie Triepel Williams; her beloved pets, Banksy and Zion; and the vibrant memories held close by her cousins, aunts, uncles and friends. A GoFundMe has been created to support her roommates, who were not home and lost many possessions, as well as the pets, who are suffering medical issues as a result of the fire.

Jessica made a profound and indelible impact on anyone who was lucky enough to become close to her, as evidenced by the dozens of friends and family members now posting memories and photos of her. In the aftermath of such a shocking tragedy, it is important to remember not how she died, but how she lived. Jess was the definition of a free spirit and lived a life full of adventures. She grew up around Hilton Head, South Carolina, where she learned to play piano beautifully, kayak around the marshes and zip around in her white convertible, top down with the wind in her hair (and if you've been in the car with Jess, you know she liked to drive fast). She had an endless love for her family, with whom she would take trips to visit her grandmother in Buffalo — she specifically asked to visit her grandmother as her thirtieth birthday present — or to Canada, where she would leap off giant boulders into a lake. She loved to read, and would quickly finish books in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series or anything by Dan Brown, and she always had great movies to recommend (though one of her favorites was The Sound of Music).

She attended the College of Charleston, where she majored in studio art; she also studied religion there, concentrating on mysticism and practices that centered nature in the pursuit of the divine, which she would then reflect in her artwork. We would go on camping trips outside of Asheville, North Carolina, exploring waterfalls and jumping into ponds and lakes, something only Jess was capable of convincing her more anxious friends to do. With her joyful charm, she could always get you to take a chance on something you had never done before.
Jessica was a dedicated artist whose paintings were inspired by the likes of Alex Gray and Amanda Sage, with kaleidoscopic bursts of color, geometric shapes, mandalas and animals to represent the connection between humans and nature, which she also honored in her everyday life. She would paint at festivals and art openings, donning her leather cowboy hat and bouncing to the music with a memorable boogie and contagious smile. After moving to Denver in 2017, she went on to work at even more music festivals, crafting fire installations with Scorched Steel.
Denver presented a world of opportunity for Jessica, and she loved it here. She created several murals, including one of a rattlesnake that can be seen at Fiddler's Green Amphitheatre, and was a constant presence in the live-painting scene, through which she made countless cherished friends while still maintaining longtime friendships across the country.

She loved that she could easily drive into the mountains, where she painted plein-air landscapes of vistas and rushing streams. Jessica was the person you'd ask if you were looking for a new hike, and she particularly loved the challenging ones, especially fourteeners (she had planned to hike Mt. Sherman on July 8). She would encourage her friends to come out with her, to take cold plunges in streams and breathe the thin, crisp air, embracing the sheer energy of life that is stored at such heights. In Jessica, that energy was omnipresent, translated through her unfettered joy and wisdom.

That wisdom paired with her ability to sit with anyone and to hold space for them without judgment. Just one conversation with her could transform a difficult challenge into a moment of opportunity to learn. Her friends and family were so important to her, and she was a champion for all of us. From her infectious laugh to her silly jokes, she made any moment memorable, big or small. There was the time she hung 21 glazed doughnuts from my ceiling for my 21st birthday, or when she would make up life stories for random bugs we found in our tent. She would reminisce on her days working at a toy store, and she would talk about her love of children and finding her inner child — and she helped others uncover their sense of play, too. She would remind us that life isn't about how much money you make or what you do for work: Most simply, it's about love and spreading love.

Jessica was proud of her sobriety and wanted to use her extraordinary wealth of gifts to heal others on the same path, becoming a licensed kambo facilitator around her 31st birthday in June. When I last saw her, at the Red Rocks Umphrey's McGee concert, she told me she didn't want to make money off of her services; she just wanted to help people heal. It's not hyperbolic to say that Jessica held some of humanity's best traits: Compassion, kindness and unadulterated love flowed from her, unanchored by the fears that afflict so many others. While she, too, was touched by vicissitudes, she didn't let challenges get in the way of her pursuit of a full life. And that is a lesson that all who knew her will hold on to. For Jess, every day was a chance for an adventure, every person a potential new friend.

That ethos is reflected in Jessica's final journal entry, from July 3: "My life is full of abundance! I appreciate every blessing, no matter how small."

To have known her is a blessing beyond measure.

If you shared a friendship with Jessica, please write your favorite memories of her in this Google Doc for family and friends.