Kindred Spirits

One day the wind changes

And a new nanny blows in from the north

A young lady who is on her own journey

But your four-year-old self has no concept of any of that

She is a magical lovely being

With bright curly hair

And a big smile

She makes everything fun

Your very own Mary Poppins

She is even English! 

And she becomes a part of your life. Your family. Your world. 

Eventually, the wind changes

As it must and always will

And your very own Mary Poppins

Heads off again for more adventures of her own

Over the years you all keep in touch

Until it grows sporadic 

Life just happens 

You go to school

Parents separate 

You go to high school and university

And travel 

And write 

And everybody goes about their days filled with breakfasts, and lunches, and dinners

And the small things we don’t think about

That mark and pass each day

Until over twenty years have passed 

And you’re a year off from thirty 

And out of the blue

Your very own Mary Poppins writes to you through your website 

And you discover she lives in Chicago! 

You plan to meet up.

You’re nervous. Why?! 

It has been close to twenty-five years since you’ve seen each other! 

And you see her, and she’s still your nanny

She’s still magical and lovely 

Still has the great big smile, though all her curls are gone

And she has children of her own

(The same age you were once upon a time!) 

And even though all this time has passed

Even though all these lives have been lived in the intervening time

It’s just like being with family, with a very close aunt or big sister 

She asks if you could stay in Chicago and become her nanny! 

You wish you could. You really do. 

You never want to leave! 

But the wind has changed

And you’re headed off for adventures of your own

You give her a hug

And promise to return

That night, your heart is so full

You can’t even sleep. 

It’s not memories, or even topics of conversation,

It’s this sense

That you’ve rediscovered who you are

Where you came from

And who was there

Who made you who you are

And that time and space

Can never separate kindred spirits

People who are supposed to be in our lives

And make it better

The end. 

St Paul's

You're standing outside St Paul's Cathedral
That giant dome
That signifier of your childhood
Mary Poppins on VHS
Watching it and rewinding it and watching it and rewinding it until the tape falls apart
And you think:
What brings us to a place?

Depression when you were fourteen.
Sitting on the train on that bright blue sky day and realizing
You don't feel anything
And then all those intervening years.

The deaths of two friends. Young women like you. They decided they couldn't do it anymore.
Sitting at Coogee Beach and looking out to the ocean and wondering what on earth was next.
Learning about mindfulness.
Two years and a world trip later.
Waiting for the hair dressers and chatting with the woman, a stranger, sitting next to you.
She told you how you could do a certificate in Meditation.
Who was that woman???

And then Kris.
And then London.
And then meeting another woman on the train.
A random conversation, a chance encounter, and you've met a kindred spirit.

And then you are standing outside St. Paul's Cathedral and the familiarity of it, the instant I'm-home of it is shocking every time.
That tall grand building with its dome lit the way it is
It makes you gasp.
It's so much a part of you,
A part of your childhood,
Despite the fact you grew up over 10,000 miles away.

And then you're inside The Anthologist.
A bar in Central London.
And there are birdcages and tea cups and mason jars full of tea lights.
And there is a group of women, with the occasional man, gathered to talk about mindfulness
Strong, radiating women, with a mission to change the world one meditation at a time.

And you're here because of a chance (synchronistic) encounter on a train
Or because you watched Mary Poppins on repeat as a child
Or because you had depression and you learnt about mindfulness and because the world is small it all leads back to the same place eventually

And you stand outside St Paul's
And you let the cold air rush into your nostrils (breathing mindfully)
And then you laugh because you're on your way home on the tube!
Tell that to your fourteen year old self, or even your four-year-old self,
Dear You/Me/Us. Guess what? You grow up and fall in love and move to London and walk past St. Paul's Cathedral and mingle with people in fancy bars and one day you even climb to the top of the dome and you kiss a boy with the rooftops of London as your backdrop. For real.

What brings us here?
Fate? Synchronicity? Chance?
The world.
The end.

A Weekend in New York

On a whim I decided to go to New York for the weekend
It is entirely possible from London
If one has a flexible schedule and a willing credit card
So I booked the trip
And flew to New York on the Friday afternoon
And I stayed at my friend's house in Queens
And looked after his cat

I saw a Broadway show
It was even better than the cast recording
It made me laugh and cry and filled me with joy
Then I went to the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts
And melted at all the resources they have available for free
I met up with beautiful friends who inspire me
I met five young sailors in Times Square
And the wonderful, delicious musical stereotype of it all thrilled me
New York, New York, it's a...

On Sunday afternoon I went to a recital at Steinway Hall
And watched Walter Hautzig, at age 90, play delicious pieces by Mozart, and Schubert, and Chopin
The walking stick hiding his nimble fingers and lightness of touch
As he played I thought about how musicians from centuries and countries far away can be brought to life right here, right now, through patient learning, through dedication
He talked about learning Chopin's Ballade in G minor at age 16
And how when he was ready to perform it at his school in Vienna
The soldiers marched in and the world fell apart
And Mr Hautzig decided that they could never take away his music
And they didn't
And he ended up working with my great-grandfather in Baltimore
One from Shanghai via Spain via the Philippines
One from Vienna via Jerusalem via New York
And I ended up working with his granddaughter
An Australian in Connecticut
Completely separately, amazing coincidence of strange happenstance
Or are we drawn to the same people in each life time?

Going to the airport, it was chilly
The rain kissed a gentle goodbye
There was even a rainbow
I boarded the plane
And suddenly I was back on the Tube wondering if I had dreamt the entire thing

It's a Jolly Holiday with Mary

So it seems Mary Poppins is taking over my world.
I'm seeing her everywhere.

A couple of weeks ago I discovered her in my local park.

Last week I saw her at the Capitol Theatre.

That night I even got to shake Mr Banks’ hand (well really it was Philip Quast, who is even cooler, and it is lovely to meet people from your childhood, people who unknowingly sang and danced into your loungeroom and heart and soul every afternoon on Playschool). 

And then Mary’s image appeared on banners all over the city.

And then this week I heard an interview on Margaret Throsby with Valerie Lawson who is P.L. Travers’ biographer. 

And then tonight walking down George St (how apt!) I discovered that Town Hall has become Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane! 

Hallo, hallo, hallo! What have we here then?!

Chimney sweeps and umbrellas lit with fairy lights tumbling out of Town Hall! 

And the night was crisp

And the air was fresh

And it made me smile

Because anything can happen if you let it

Town Hall is transformed for the official Opening Night of "Mary Poppins", Sydney

The three (seriously happy) sisters and Philip Quast

Anything Can Happen

Imagine that as a child you watched Mary Poppins on repeat and there are countless million times you have watched Mary float down from the sky and dish out coloured spoonfuls of goodness and hold the beak of her umbrella and say that will be quite enough of that thank you! And as that little child you wished and prayed that Mary would one day actually fly into your world. And then imagine one day you are living in a place you have never lived before and one morning you go out for a jog. And you are in the park and next to the playground you spy a statue of Mary Poppins. And there she is with her feet in perfect first position and her umbrella held above her head and the familiarity of her makes you gasp. And even more surprising is the discovery that P.L. Travers (who wrote the original books upon which the movie was based) once lived just a short jog from your house. And the person who unveiled the statue six years ago is your aunty. And it is surprising. And it is lovely. And your inner six year old says that is too cool. Mary Poppins lives at my park. 

  

Melbourne

image from ineedaholiday

Once upon a time yesterday there was a girl called Lulu who liked musicals very much. She liked them so much that one she decided to fly all by herself from Sydney to Melbourne to see some new musicals. So she booked her ticket and off she went. When she got there she was very excited because her hostel was right by the river and in walking distance to Federation Square and the Melbourne Arts Centre, which are both very lovely. 

After walking down by the riverside and admiring all the pretty sculptures lining the riverbank, Lulu took herself to the Australian Centre for the Moving Image to see the current exhibition, “Dreams Come True: The Art of Disney’s Classic Fairy Tales”. Lulu spent a few happy hours wandering the halls of the exhibit, admiring how clever the people at the Disney Studio were and still are, and getting a little bit teary at all the lovely princess stories and remembering just how much they are a part of her psyche, even if her university educated feminist self says that the messages they espouse are a little bit dated. The critical part in Lulu’s mind also wondered about the stories not being told in the exhibit, for example, why/how/when did the Walt Disney Brothers Studios become just the Walt Disney Studios. Lulu remembered from her university days that there is a lot of story being told in what is purposefully left out, and she made a mental note to investigate it further later on. 

Then Lulu made a mad dash for the Melbourne Arts Centre, which was luckily just a hop, skip, and a jump across the river. She collected her ticket, and went downstairs into the Fairfax Theatre to watch Program One of Carnegie 18, a new musical theatre development program. In short, it was utterly wonderful (if you would like to hear the longer version of this part of the story you will need to keep an eye on Flusical for Episode 6: Carnegie 18). Lulu laughed, cried, held her breath, and was filled with utter excitement at the high level of talent, and the wonderful new works on display. In the interval she met a lovely lady named Jan, who happened to be the editor of Australian Stage Online, the newsletter in which Lulu found out the London Central School was holding Sydney auditions. Lulu thanked Jan profusely for changing her life for 2011, and with much discussion about musicals and Australian theatre to be had, Lulu and Jan sat above the river eating wicked but utterly delicious treats.

In the late afternoon, Lulu was lucky enough to interview Vanessa Pigrum, the Artistic Director of Carnegie 18, for Flusical. Vanessa was very lovely, and Lulu was left feeling inspired and ready to take on the world. The second program of Carnegie 18 was equally as exciting and moving as the first program, and Lulu was particularly taken by the new opera about netball. She had no idea that the drama of netball could be so fitting for an opera. Or that sopranos could be so funny. 

By now the sun had set over Melbourne, and while most other folk were watching the tennis, Lulu made back for her hostel. Sitting in the kitchen writing up her notes for the day, Lulu had a wonderful conversation with a Canadian traveller. They talked about politics and nations and the state of the world and indigenous affairs and national identity. It was very lovely, and it was only when the kitchen was closed for the night did the conversation come to an end.

Four hours later Lulu was back at the airport, and by now she was very tired from her grand adventure and severe lack of sleep. Thankfully adrenalin and inspiration were abundant, and helped her to stay awake throughout the day so she could work, edit the next episode of the podcast, and write about her adventures. And then she collapsed into bed to dream about all things musical. 

The end.

Dinner at Shelly Beach

 (picture of Shelly Beach from here)

One day one can find oneself sitting at Shelly Beach looking at the headland covered in lush greenery and at the ocean and at people picnicking and playing and swimming and in the past fifteen minutes you have encountered three water dragons, a possum, and a rabbit sitting beneath a tree. And although a storm is brewing, it is still warm, and people are not in any rush to leave. A man is strumming a guitar. There is laughter. Upstairs in the cafe there is a party going on and you can hear the music and the hubbub of people chatting and mingling. 

And then you can find yourself sitting inside a lovely restaurant eating beautiful food with five beautiful people from all over the world. And the conversation tingles your toes and resonates with everything you have been thinking and feeling and reading for the past little while and it all feels delightfully synchronistic. And outside the storm has taken gentle reign of the beach. It's raining, but not very hard. The lightning camera flashes the sand and the ocean and the trees. And it is lovely. And it is beautiful. And you go home tired but happy and feeling like something within you has shifted. And you are incredibly grateful that you were there, you were a part of the conversation, and you shared the energy and it was light and beautiful and song. 

The end.