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When one thinks of moments of beauty, inspiration, and excitement, a cemetery is probably not on the list of things that spring to mind. Let us travel back to the Victorian era... First of all, death was considered in an entirely different way to the way we view it today. It was much more out in the open, publicly discussed, shared, and mourned. Concurrently in this period, we see the development of public green spaces - large beautifully designed parks and public spaces for people to enjoy fresh air, sunshine, and be close to nature. Central Park, Hyde Park (both in London and Sydney), and the Sydney Royal Botanic Gardens, are beautiful examples of such parks.
These two notions came together in the form of the necropolis, or “city of the dead” (from the Latin words “necro” for dead body and “polis” for city), a large open space that was at once a park and a cemetery, or as it was referred to by our Victorian counterparts, a garden cemetery. A space for people to come and bury their dead, mourn the loss of their loved ones, and be in a beautiful environment. In Sydney, we are home to one of the the largest necropolis’ in the world, and what is considered to be one of the best examples of a Victorian necropolis in the world, Rookwood Necropolis (a tiny portion of which is pictured above, picture is from the Rookwood website). Located between Lidcombe and Strathfield in Sydney’s west, Rookwood comprises 700 acres of burial grounds, featuring beautiful gardens, architecture, and the names of over 800,000 people who are interred within the grounds.
Arriving at Rookwood on the free shuttle from Lidcombe Station for the Open Day yesterday was entirely bizzare. There were bands playing music, sausage sizzles and Devonshire tea stalls, face painting for the kids, and people everywhere. People of all ages and backgrounds were wandering around the grounds, looking at headstones, listening to volunteer tour guides share the histories of the cemetery and some of its more infamous inhabitants, and looking for graves of relatives and ancestors. If there is one thing that unites humanity, it’s death. No matter where we are born, under what circumstances we live, what we do, at some point or other, we will all no longer be living.
Due to the sheer size of the place, I unfortunately missed the talks I was hoping to attend - behind the scenes at the crematorium, and the history of embalming, but it was rather incredible to just wander through the grounds for an hour and a half. I felt that the original designers of Rookwood would have been proudly watching over the creation yesterday. Their
ideal of the garden cemetery was not realised in the nineteenth century owing to poor burial practices, issues with sewerage, and poor management, but today Rookwood is an eerily beautiful place. It is steeped in history, and captures the ethos of a time gone by.
Is it morbid to enjoy learning about the history of death? Or is it just a natural part of living? I find it fascinating, and I think we could do well to take a note from our Victorian forebears and bring the discussion of death back into a more public domain. Tours are run by the Friends of Rookwood (a volunteer organisation that works to promote the “social, historical, and cultural values” and preservation of the site), on the first Sunday of the month. It would be great to go back and experience it again.
These two notions came together in the form of the necropolis, or “city of the dead” (from the Latin words “necro” for dead body and “polis” for city), a large open space that was at once a park and a cemetery, or as it was referred to by our Victorian counterparts, a garden cemetery. A space for people to come and bury their dead, mourn the loss of their loved ones, and be in a beautiful environment. In Sydney, we are home to one of the the largest necropolis’ in the world, and what is considered to be one of the best examples of a Victorian necropolis in the world, Rookwood Necropolis (a tiny portion of which is pictured above, picture is from the Rookwood website). Located between Lidcombe and Strathfield in Sydney’s west, Rookwood comprises 700 acres of burial grounds, featuring beautiful gardens, architecture, and the names of over 800,000 people who are interred within the grounds.
Arriving at Rookwood on the free shuttle from Lidcombe Station for the Open Day yesterday was entirely bizzare. There were bands playing music, sausage sizzles and Devonshire tea stalls, face painting for the kids, and people everywhere. People of all ages and backgrounds were wandering around the grounds, looking at headstones, listening to volunteer tour guides share the histories of the cemetery and some of its more infamous inhabitants, and looking for graves of relatives and ancestors. If there is one thing that unites humanity, it’s death. No matter where we are born, under what circumstances we live, what we do, at some point or other, we will all no longer be living.
Due to the sheer size of the place, I unfortunately missed the talks I was hoping to attend - behind the scenes at the crematorium, and the history of embalming, but it was rather incredible to just wander through the grounds for an hour and a half. I felt that the original designers of Rookwood would have been proudly watching over the creation yesterday. Their
ideal of the garden cemetery was not realised in the nineteenth century owing to poor burial practices, issues with sewerage, and poor management, but today Rookwood is an eerily beautiful place. It is steeped in history, and captures the ethos of a time gone by.
Is it morbid to enjoy learning about the history of death? Or is it just a natural part of living? I find it fascinating, and I think we could do well to take a note from our Victorian forebears and bring the discussion of death back into a more public domain. Tours are run by the Friends of Rookwood (a volunteer organisation that works to promote the “social, historical, and cultural values” and preservation of the site), on the first Sunday of the month. It would be great to go back and experience it again.
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Dear Diary.
Last Friday marks sixteen years since I first started keeping a diary. I had no idea when I first started writing that I would keep writing. I just wanted to be more like Elizabeth Wakefield, the nerdier goodly twin of Sweet Valley High. Back then, I wanted to be the first female prime minister of Australia. I wanted to be an actress. I wanted to be an Olympian. I wanted to live in a world where people spent their days learning about history, and playing musical instruments, and being nice to each other. I was terrified I would never have a boyfriend. I desperately wanted my own room.
Dear Me Sixteen Years Ago. You don’t become first female Prime Minister of Australia, but you do get to be the PM in the role play in Parliament House at year 6 camp. You do go to the Olympics, but not as an athlete, you perform in the Opening Ceremony and sing in the recording choir. The Olympics is everything you have ever dreamed it will be and more. You go to State Music Camp and are surrounded by people who play musical instruments. You go to university and meet wonderful, amazing, inspiring, talented people. You spend all day learning about history. You go to summer camp and become surrounded by people who live creatively and are nice to each other. You travel the world. You do get a boyfriend (several in
fact). The boy(s) will break your heart but you will be okay. You have amazing, beautiful friends. You learn to live healthily. You get your own room. I promise. And you are exactly where you need to be to do all the things you want to do.
Dear Me Sixteen Years From Now. I have no idea who you have become or what you are doing. Are you living in New York or London? Do you have an organic theatre farm? Are you a writer? An actress? A critic? Are you married? Are you single? Are you meditating? Are you running? Are you dancing? Are you eating beautiful food? Are you happy? I hope so. Because
Me-Today can look at Me-Sixteen-Years-Ago and say, lots of stuff has happened since the first journal entry - good, bad, wonderful, exciting, terrifying, depressing, heart-breaking, thrilling, soul-enriching things that happen over the course of life and years - and despite all of this, I am here. And I trust that this is exactly where I need to be.
Here’s to the next sixteen.
With love,
Me.
Last Friday marks sixteen years since I first started keeping a diary. I had no idea when I first started writing that I would keep writing. I just wanted to be more like Elizabeth Wakefield, the nerdier goodly twin of Sweet Valley High. Back then, I wanted to be the first female prime minister of Australia. I wanted to be an actress. I wanted to be an Olympian. I wanted to live in a world where people spent their days learning about history, and playing musical instruments, and being nice to each other. I was terrified I would never have a boyfriend. I desperately wanted my own room.
Dear Me Sixteen Years Ago. You don’t become first female Prime Minister of Australia, but you do get to be the PM in the role play in Parliament House at year 6 camp. You do go to the Olympics, but not as an athlete, you perform in the Opening Ceremony and sing in the recording choir. The Olympics is everything you have ever dreamed it will be and more. You go to State Music Camp and are surrounded by people who play musical instruments. You go to university and meet wonderful, amazing, inspiring, talented people. You spend all day learning about history. You go to summer camp and become surrounded by people who live creatively and are nice to each other. You travel the world. You do get a boyfriend (several in
fact). The boy(s) will break your heart but you will be okay. You have amazing, beautiful friends. You learn to live healthily. You get your own room. I promise. And you are exactly where you need to be to do all the things you want to do.
Dear Me Sixteen Years From Now. I have no idea who you have become or what you are doing. Are you living in New York or London? Do you have an organic theatre farm? Are you a writer? An actress? A critic? Are you married? Are you single? Are you meditating? Are you running? Are you dancing? Are you eating beautiful food? Are you happy? I hope so. Because
Me-Today can look at Me-Sixteen-Years-Ago and say, lots of stuff has happened since the first journal entry - good, bad, wonderful, exciting, terrifying, depressing, heart-breaking, thrilling, soul-enriching things that happen over the course of life and years - and despite all of this, I am here. And I trust that this is exactly where I need to be.
Here’s to the next sixteen.
With love,
Me.
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The only constant is change. Around this time a year ago I thought I was getting married and moving into my own apartment with my (now ex) beloved. Around this time two years ago I was hanging out at summer camp and getting ready to walk the Camino. Around this time three years ago I was despairing that I would ever meet a single straight guy who loves theatre (ok, some things may never change...). Despite many amazing things happening in my life right now, of late I have been feeling uninspired and tired. I have to trust that this feeling will change.
And so, in an attempt to remain positive and be kind to myself, I have compiled a list of things, in no particular order, that inspire me...
meditation. musicals. running. listening to Seth Rudetsky. watching Seth Rudetsky. reading a good novel or short story. listening to classic fm. watching a movie musical. dancing. writing. spending time with beautiful people. being kind to myself. eating dark chocolate. reading superforest. spending an afternoon in a library. going to a talk and getting fired up. candles. having a good sing. sitting in bed and listening to the neighbour practise their violin. listening to musicaltalk. journalling. colouring in. sitting in the sun on a bright blue sky and reading a good book. learning. buck’s rock. the idea of living on an organic theatre farm. travel. the camino. eating beautiful food. cooking beautiful food. Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets. sustainability. possibility. falling in crush. superforest. reading old diaries. watching musicals on youtube. going to good theatre. creating theatre. performing. playbill.com.
As they say in Avenue Q, “Everything in life is only for now! Life may be scary, but it’s only temporary...” This too shall pass, and soon I will have the energy to go out and conquer the
world!
And so, in an attempt to remain positive and be kind to myself, I have compiled a list of things, in no particular order, that inspire me...
meditation. musicals. running. listening to Seth Rudetsky. watching Seth Rudetsky. reading a good novel or short story. listening to classic fm. watching a movie musical. dancing. writing. spending time with beautiful people. being kind to myself. eating dark chocolate. reading superforest. spending an afternoon in a library. going to a talk and getting fired up. candles. having a good sing. sitting in bed and listening to the neighbour practise their violin. listening to musicaltalk. journalling. colouring in. sitting in the sun on a bright blue sky and reading a good book. learning. buck’s rock. the idea of living on an organic theatre farm. travel. the camino. eating beautiful food. cooking beautiful food. Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets. sustainability. possibility. falling in crush. superforest. reading old diaries. watching musicals on youtube. going to good theatre. creating theatre. performing. playbill.com.
As they say in Avenue Q, “Everything in life is only for now! Life may be scary, but it’s only temporary...” This too shall pass, and soon I will have the energy to go out and conquer the
world!