The Waiting Room
An archetypal dream version of Sydney Cove,...that part known as Circular Quay,....a sort of metaphysical funnel through which almost every inhabitant of the Sydney geological basin for thousands of years may have passed .
At the narrowest point of the funnel, two almost completely disparate cultures met in 1788.
From that time onward an area of a few hundred meters square became a stage-set and pivotal point of an ever densifying
history. The great and small cogs of a nations life met here every day and every night creating charged numinous clouds composed of the entire spectrum of human emotion. Superimposed year apon year....into a dense astral vortex.
I have also passed as an atom through the most holocene stratum of that cloud,....a few hundred times,..with my bagage of banal emotions,...my own little personal history which meant everything and nothing.
I belong there in the cloud as much as any other atom ,...my dreams tell me so.....even those I have when I'm wide awake.
When searching for literature some years ago that might reflect what I've now written above , so that I'd understand better what I felt, about my relationship with the city of my childhood and youth, I found the book ''Belonging'' by Peter Read, an Australian anthropologist and this reference to Michael King an historian from NZ.
''....a feeling of connection between living and dead; the sense of spirituality which recognises that people and places are more than mere physical presences; the conviction that the consequences of behaviour remain somehow embedded in the ethos of places, just as they do in the lives of people; a belief in the power of psychic communication in those who are open to such faculties....''