“Art is not separate” ~ Karen Arp-Sandel

What is the measure of a life? This week we travelled back in time to north east Victoria where we lived for 25 years in our thirties, forties and fifties.

It was a time of building houses and growing up children, of working in community and immersion in that community’s life. There were parties and theatre productions, protests , politics and social change as together we birthed a sleepy town into the vibrant artistic and creative hub it has become.

Many people have since moved away but this week we came back together to honour the life of a man who was a big part of our interconnected community. At this multigenerational memorial service, both old and young spoke of how he touched their lives. There were songs and there were eulogies, about how Chris was a doer, he dreamt up projects and got stuff done. Some schemes worked out, some didn’t but he kept going, changed tact and tried something else. Not one person used the word entrepreneur, but that is what he was.

 One eulogy in particular struck me. It was about the nature of his service as a cook, how he served people through his passion for food. He was passionate about the smell, the look, the taste of food and his food touched and enriched the lives of many people. He was most famous for being able to cook anywhere – up the top of a mountain or down in a river flat. He was the one who served endless cups of tea and scones at both of my parents’ funerals.

At this opportunity to honour one man’s life, we got to honour our own lives and to remember who we are when held by and in service to our community. Integrating and validating all the parts of ourselves through our twenties, thirties and onwards. For me there were also poignant reunions.

One of these was with a woman who I went to school with and made super 8 movies together in our high school drama class.  We ended up living in the same town in northeast Victoria. Both our sons went to school together and are now best of friends. Or the local doctor who is a part of the community theatre company and helped me write my first and second pantomimes. We were involved in many projects together, including going to Timor Leste in a friendship delegation. He delivered our second baby and was there as doctor for the deaths of both my parents.

I revisited the library where I was the branch librarian for 12 years, taking it from a tiny room tacked onto the wing of the old council chambers, to the now bustling community hub it has become. I also drove out to the beginning of the town where the Taungerung sign stands next to the new information centre. This sign came out of the research I undertook to write a play The Widow of Wappan. This in turn led to Project Wappan, a community project which honoured the indigenous people of the area and included preserving a scar tree and creating a snake dreaming wall.

Leaving this town more than ten years ago then coming back to it time and time again, is a process of reintegration of all the different parts of myself. It helped shape me into who I am today on this circuitous route to freedom through the constant need to create and reinvent myself.  We each plant seeds, others harvest our legacies.