See you in Valhalla old girl...

I have been instructed not to be sad. I have been asked to be happy that her suffering is over and that she's moved on to better things. However, I am sad. This woman was one of the true unsung heros of Australian Theatre. When I was a very green, very unaware teenager, this is the woman who showed me the magic of the stage. It was at her knee that I caught my life-long theatre-virus. A small dark theatre full of smoke, acerbic comments from our director, that infectious laugh that was somewhere between a 'tee-hee' and a cough. The thoughtful pause before ANY question was answered (usually filled with a cigarette inhalation). The delight I had in telling my parents that my tutor's name was 'Mopsi Beans' ,-and my first inkling that there was such a thing as a 'stage name'. The forbidden pleasures of my first real role in a grown-up play in a real theatre, and the first grown-up kisses with a cast member. The smell of dry-ice, greasepaint, dust and hairspray. Her constant admonition of 'one thing in one space' (that many directors seem to ignore). Her mothering of 'The furries'(fairy's). Believing myself within a character whilst playing in the grounds of the primary school for the first time. The joy of meeting her again as an adult and feeling the years slip away like running water. My strong disagreements with her decisions, but equally strong respect for them. My gratefulnesss that Brett got to work with one of my childhood hero's for the first and last time. Here's to you Elizabeth. I promise to get 'silly' at your wake and to do you proud every time I set foot on a stage. You will always be with me and all your other fledglings.

I hope there is a God and that she's gone to Heaven,-she could sure tell that dude a thing or too about 'one thing in one space'. Have a good rest now my old friend. -Will be on the look-out for your good self at the 'Cow'...