Good morning Stephanie, Tom, Aunty Phyllis and Tim,
I am writing from a bright corner of our small living room with the sun on my shoulder, a cat nibbling at my toes and husband ferreting downstairs in the garage.
There is no music.
I'm a more than a little cross that you guys didn't invite me to the party.
Your party's theme You Want it Darker was a less-than-subtle hint.
I got your sneaky little reference to our mutual 'crush' the late, great Leonard Cohen's last studio album released on his 82nd birthday - You Want it Darker ; but never imagined you would go to such extremes to act out his lyrics - after all, you are mostly a decade younger than Leonard.
This week when I heard of the deaths of Stephanie Thorne, Aunty Phyllis Pitchford and Tom Samek - all within three days - I couldn't help but feel a deep pain/love for Tasmania.
If there ever was a group of people who embodied the very best of Tasmania's heart, soul, class politick, social justice, literature, food, wine and art it is you four. (Note to Stephanie: I refuse to use past tense.)
Stephanie, you are seated at the head of the great table that is Tasmania, representing the gentle, the wild, the goodness, the observer, the teacher, the activist and the mother.
Aunty Phyllis seated alongside Stephanie; the soul, the justice, the conscience, the artist, the maker, the teacher and giver of the absolute best hugs and holder of true grit.
Tom (Samek) chef of wild reputation, man of passion, of brushes and strokes, man who captured life's fluid ironies and humour - I hear you are out in the kitchen, drinking the best of a single site pinot as the guests arrive for the party.
You four do set the bar high - no time wasted in your passions.
Tim. Tim. Tim. I know you wanted to keep the guest list small, but really, just the four of you?
What's that you say? No time-wasters at your table?
I agree.
You four do set the bar high - no time wasted in your passions.
By not wasting time, you helped make Tasmania the abundant table set for us today.
You wrote those words, cooked those meals, painted and made art, fought causes and were loud and proud voices for the best of Tasmania.
A Babette's Feast of sharing - Tasmania is no longer suspicious of pleasure but basking in its own feast of transformation.
As a table, Tasmania is one of feast (or famine). I feel now it is a table of feast, where artists are flocking and thriving like never before. Where young Tasmanian writers like Robbie Arnott promise to take their place alongside experimental winemakers like Jim Chatto and chefs like Fico's Oskar Rossi, with a generation of ethical farmers and activists whose causes are no longer fringe but mainstream conversations.
On You Want it Darker, Cohen wrote about his death:
Leaving the Table,
"I'm leaving the table, I'm out of the game'' and,
Going Home:
"Going home without my burden
"Going home behind the curtain
"Going home without this costume that I wore''.
This place I sometimes want to flee for a home of long sunshine - like the far west Peloponnese - makes good people
I hear the party's still going because Tim put on some early Bob Dylan and Tom pulled out (yet another, apparently bottomless) classic pinot.
Stephanie is dancing, Aunty Phyllis may be napping, and it appears they have a great view, down through the clouds, down, down to what looks like a mossy green shadow on a slate blue ocean.
Dearest Stephanie, don't tell the others, but I will miss you most.
Love, Danielle
