For a moment today I thought I was back in Europe. It was overcast. I’d put on my jeans and pullover. And I was preparing to walk down the street to grab a bite to eat, ahead of entering an art gallery. Sounds familiar, eh?
Things have changed around Surry Hills since in the last few months. I noticed the closure, for example, of two iconic establishments on Bourke Street: the much-loved Cafe Niki and what was the Labor Club (turned Arts on Bourke a few years ago).
And further up the street, I noticed development work on the Beresford Hotel is coming along nicely.
My big goal for the day was to see the Blake Prize for religious art at the National Art School. And just as I was about to say it was totally boring and pointless this year, I went upstairs to discover all of the good stuff. Don’t ask me why, but all of the works downstairs left me totally cold. They were either “clever” or “not clever enough” if you ask me.
But upstairs there's a terrific Adam Cullen piece, a really wonderful human sculpture, and an interesting video work. And there's a lot more.
Figuring that was an energetic enough day I came home via Woolworths (I wanted to buy some tea). As I went to enter the store (I don’t often go there), I was told I was using the wrong door by a security guard on the front door. I get the impression that might be how he spends most of his time.
Coming home I’ve watched a bit of television. Which reminds me, don’t forget to watch SBS tonight at 8.30 for “Embedded with Sheik Hilaly”, a program produced by my friend Michaela.
Every time I typed “vivid” into my phone, the word “covid” appeared in the autocorrect!! Sign of the times?
https://www.vividsydney.com/ is an annual festival of light, music and ideas, held in Sydney, Australia. It includes outdoor immersive light installations and projections, performances by local and international musicians, and an ideas exchange forum featuring public talks and debates with leading creative thinkers
It’s also a great opportunity for tens (hundreds?) of thousands of Sydneysiders to go out at night in the cooler months. I thought Sunday night might have been quieter, but there were still lots of people around.
You’ll note the mask in my right hand, the only time I took it off all night. There was not a lot of mask wearing. Maybe the covid/vivid thing wasn’t auto-correct, maybe it was predictive text? The drones display was amazing.
In the midst of a warm Boxing Day (mid 30s), Michelle and I headed to the air conditioned comfort of Lismore Shopping Square. As well as being a physically cool place to visit, it’s also a good spot for running into the extended family.
“I found a tray I thought you might like”, my cousin Julie told me. I remembered the tray from my childhood, though I haven’t seen it for many years. After my mum and dad died, I moved out of our family home, though my grandmother and uncle continued to live there for many years. Many of my childhood memories are now with other family members, as was this “tray”.
This image is of Spinks Park, located in the centre of Lismore with the old Post Office and clock tower in the background
Seeking furhter information, I put the image on the Facebook Group, “The Good Old Days Of Lismore”. So far, the only “breakthrough” has been the discovery of an artists signature on the bottom right hand corner. I couldn’t see it at first, though someone with “younger eyes” spotted it.
So, who was Allister Greg?
“Allister Greig was a South Australian-born commercial artist who served in the first AIF and was a civilian internee in Singapore from 1942 to 1945. He was an amateur magician and was caught by prison guards performing magic tricks for POWs in Changi. The guards thought he was making secret signals, and put him into solitary confinement as punishment. In these cells, originally intended for Asiatic prisoners, three Europeans were forced to live in isolation for 22 months before being transferred to Sime Road Internment Camp’ . (Australian War Memorial)
This is a history of his life I’ve been able to bring together over a couple of hours of Google research.
Born in Wallaroo, South Australia (22/02/1898), “he came to Perth with his parents when he was six, went to Christian Brothers’ College. As an electrician he worked on many buildings in the city, in cluding the now non-existent Pa vilion Theatre and Esplanade Gardens. He joined the Australian Army in 1917, was stationed at. Fremantle forts. (Daily News, Perth, p5 on 23/11/45)
“As a child of 11,…(he) lost the sight of one eye. As a boy he always had a liking for lettering, was for 51/2 years ticket writing with Foy and Gibsons. Later he was an electrician and engineer. It was not until he was a prisoner of the Japs that he took to painting pictures. (Daily News, Perth, p5 on 23/11/45)
In 1918, he was employed as the Stage Manager at the Midland Junction Town Hall in Perth. (Swan Express p3 on 21/06/18)
He married Emma Liddell (Taylor) on November 25, 1922 in West Leederville.
In 1929, he was living at 90 Kimberley Street, West Leederville, and owned a car, an Essex Sedan. (West Australian p6 on 31/10/29)
He was employed as the presentation manager of the Temple Court Cabaret (later to become the Capitol Theatre) in Perth. (Kalgoorlie Miner, p1, 28/06/35)
By 1934, he is confirmed as living in Kalgoorlie, where he staged a “Big Dancing Adventure” at the new Palais Theatre. (Kalgoorlie Miner, p6 on 12/06/34). A nd in 1935, he was responsible for the lightning and presentation for a stage band concert at the Kalgoorlie Town Hall (Kalgoorlie Miner, p 3 on 12/07/35).
After being employed on the goldfields with the de Bernales mining group, Mr Greig went to Malaya in 1937 for a tin mining company.
He was on leave with his wife and daughter in W.A. in 1940, returned to Malaya in April, 1941. Because of the war situation, his daughter was not allowed to return with them. He sent his wife back to Perth in September that year but she return ed with their daughter on November 25, anniversary of their wedding. After surviving the bombing of Singapore, mother and daughter were able to leave but Mr Greig was cap tured by the Japs and sent to Changi, where he was a prisoner for 22 months and where he met the British painters with whom he studied. (Daily News, Perth, p5 on 23/11/45)
In November 1945, an exhibtion of his paintings was held at Trinity (??) in Perth. A few days later it was reported “Two watercolours painted in Changi prison by Mr Allister Greig are to be presented to the Perth Art Gallery. The pcitres are ‘Malay House, Kampar’ and ‘East Monsoon’ which were included in the exhibition of his work during the past three days in Trinity When he arrived in Perth recently Mr Greig said that he would present two of his pictures, if acceptable, to the trustees of the Art Gallery. Employed by a Malayan tin-mining company when war broke out, Mr Greig was taken prisoner and interned first in Changi, then in Sime Road camp.” (Daily News, Perth p6 on 30/11/45)
On January 23 1946, an exhibition of his water colours opened at John Martin’s Art Gallery in Adelaide, which the was attended by ” people who, like the artist, had lived in Malaya, or who had interests there.” (Adelaide News 25/01/46)
In 1948, an exhibition of his watercolours was opened at Boans Art Gallery. (Boans was a department store in Perth). The exhibition was opened by the Lord Mayor, Joseph Totterdell who said that Mr. Greig had brought from his travels, “something new, something original” (West Australian, p20 on 30/10/48)
He died 22/09/61 at age 63 and was buried in the Karrakatta Cemetery, Nedlands
As for the artwork , I’m still none the wiser about when or why it was painted. Did he travel around the country, selling paintings to make a living? Was this done remotely based on a photograph? Was it mass produced, or is this one of a kind? If you know anything, please comment below.
It’s been another long day at the Gympie Muster, starting with breakfast, and arriving home at about 10.45 tonight.
It wasn’t my usual weekday breakfast. As we watched a bluegrass band play, we chowed down on sausages, bacon, beans, hash-browns and… Milo. Yes, Milo! I haven’t had a Milo since it was a childhood favourite, and so when I saw it on the menu, I couldn’t resist it. The musical breakfast was great, and, as I tweeted earlier in the day, it was great to hear the Theme from Deliverance played without any sense of irony.
This could be my new photo for online dating
Other musical highlights of the day included Luke Austen doing covers of both Stevie Ray Vaughan and Slim Dusty’s “Lights On The Hill”, along with a massive sing-a-long to John Williamson’s “True Blue”. As the crowd of thousands sang along to one his biggest hits, I reflected on all the other great songs he’s written and performed. “He’s quite subversive in his lyrics”, I mentioned to a colleague, referring to the “progressive politics” of songs like “Rip Rip Woodchip” and “Raining On The Rock”.
Mr G leads line dancers
Speaking of woodchip, an unexpected highlight of the day was seeing the comedian Wil Anderson perform. I’ve seen Wil on several occasions at the Sydney Opera House. This venue was quite different, however, as a lot of people (myself included) sat on a floor of woodchip and sawdust. In contrast to some of the other comedians playing whose humour was sometimes sexist and racist, Wil’s humour is very PC, but not in a PC kind of way. There could have been a tendency for a city-based comedian to assume this was redneck territory he was talking to. But being from the bush himself, he knew not to underestimate the audience. “Who here supports gay marriage?”, he asked, and I was pleased with the level of support that came back. The audience was perhaps less forgiving when he mentioned he was vegetarian :) Anyway, it was a great show which both he and the audience seem to really enjoy.
One of the outdoor bars, The Grove
Throughout the day I ate far too much, and had a couple of beers as well. I needed a beer before undertaking a beginner’s class in clogging. A bit like line-dancing, clogging originates in the Apalachian Mountains, apparently. “It’s a great way to meet chicks”, the instructor said to me as I came on the floor as part of the class. I think both he and I appreciated the humour in his comment. Unofficially I was the worst in the class, with an almost no co-ordination or sense of rhythm. What happened? I used to be quite a good dancer. But tonight I struggled, really struggled. Perhaps I might have been more successful, had I been there for the earlier class instructed by a bloke who sounded oh, so, much like Mr G. Seriously.
Moleskins and drizabones on the dance floor
Heading back to Sydney tomorrow feeling… revitalised… by my time in the bush.
Earlier this week, I did an interview with Derek Eady. Originally from New Zealand and now based in Central Queensland, Derek shared his experiences for an upcoming episode of The Limb Shift, a podcast about limb loss and limb difference. He was so generous with his time and insights. I hope you find his story as useful and inspiring to read now as it will be to listen to later in the year. Click on the links above to subscribe (free!!) to the podcast so you receive all of the episodes when they are released.
Derek Eady’s life shifted dramatically after a severe domestic accident in 2013 during a home renovation project in New Zealand.
Before the incident, he had spent over fifteen years working as a frontline paramedic, accustomed to being the one who arrived to help others in their darkest moments.
While painting the roof of his house on a stunning December day, he stepped on wet paint that “is a bit like soap,” causing him to slide straight down the roof and over the edge. He plummeted five and a half metres, landing feet first before hitting his backside, which shattered his right leg and fractured his pelvis and back in four separate places.
The Immediate Aftermath and Recovery
The immediate fear centered on a potential spinal injury. Derek recalled the terrifying realization:
“I couldn’t feel my legs, I had no sensation below my waist.”
Transitioning from a frontline paramedic to a completely dependent patient felt “surreal,” leaving him with an “absolute sense of complete helplessness”.
Hospitalization brought dark days, depression, and profound questions about his future as a father, husband, and paramedic.
When a colleague visited after his amputation and suggested alternative office or training roles, Derek felt deeply deflated because they lacked any “sense that there was a possibility that I could return to active duty on the road as a paramedic”.
A major turning point occurred when his surgeon introduced him to another amputee who walked smoothly without a walking stick. Inspired by that meeting and by learning about other adaptive athletes like double amputee Mark Inglis climbing Everest, Derek experienced a complete shift in mindset.
Seven months after the accident, following the amputation of his problematic leg, he made a firm choice:
“No, I’m going to do this, I’m going to get back to working as a paramedic… and come hell or high water, I was going to do everything I needed to do to make that happen.”
Rebuilding Life and Career
With the help of dedicated rehabilitation programs, specialists, and his prosthetic, Derek quickly learned to walk again.
St John, his employer, supported his return, provided he passed an occupational driving assessment to prove he could safely operate an unmodified vehicle.
After retraining his brain’s spatial awareness for braking and acceleration, he passed the test and returned to frontline duties.
In doing so, Derek made history by becoming the first person with limb loss in New Zealand to return to work as a frontline paramedic.
This lived experience had a deeply transformative impact on his perspective, fundamentally changing his attitudes toward life and patient care. Rather than feeling jaded, it instilled a profound sense of empathy:
“For them this moment is, for them it’s been scary enough that they’ve called an ambulance. So they deserve every ounce of my compassion.”
It also altered his outlook as a husband and father, making him realize how quickly life can change and teaching him to cherish every moment with his family.
Life Since Paramedicine in Australia
After working for another six years on the road in New Zealand, Derek and his wife—following her recovery from breast cancer—decided to completely change their pace of life. They bought a yacht, learned to sail with their children, and spent months cruising around New Zealand and Fiji before eventually crossing over to Australia.
Pic supplied
Now based in central Queensland, Australia, Derek closed the chapter on his long paramedicine career and transitioned into heavy transport. Describing his new line of work, he noted:
“At the moment I’m working in the dangerous goods transport field, running bulk dangerous goods. It’s… ammonium nitrate, cyanide, those sorts of things that are used in mines up around Queensland. So it’s, yeah, it’s a pretty intense, intense job.”
Working as a truck driver, Derek secured an unconditional licence and solved minor hurdles—such as finding a zip-up gumboot to fit his prosthetic for hazardous chemical suits.
Pic supplied
Alongside his career driving commercial heavy vehicles, he also serves as a volunteer skipper for Marine Rescue in Gladstone. Looking forward, he and his family hope to embark on a complete circumnavigation of Australia by sailboat once their youngest son finishes school.
How cool was this? I received a “loyal customer” gift from my favourite coffee shop in Sydney. It’s the coffee shop I visit almost every morning on my way to work. The staff are friendly, the coffee’s great. They’re a part of my daily ritual. Today they also gave me a great big smile.
I have family visiting from Lismore, and today, I was granted a “day pass” from the hospital to spend a few hours with them, heading into the city. Besides enjoying their company, I was eager for a much-needed haircut and a break from “hospital food.”
To prepare for the outing, I spent a significant amount of time last night scouring Google Maps, particularly the “Street View” feature. Being able to see both exterior and interior photos of various places greatly helped the decision-making process, now that I am currently using a wheelchair.
Locating a wheelchair-accessible hairdresser or barber near St. Vincent’s Hospital was quite challenging: either they had a step or two to get over (and my wheelchair skills aren’t quite paralympic), or they were too expensive. After thorough research, I settled on Oxford Barber, on Crown Street (near the corner of Oxford Street).
“You’re the only place I could find with easy wheelchair access”, I told the barber. He mentioned that he had three regular clients in wheelchairs, so it didn’t phase him. “Do you want to stay in the wheelchair or get into the barber’s chair”? he asked. When I said we should try for the barber’s chair, he knew the drill. Smooth as. I’ll definitely return.
Oxford Barber, Crown Street, Darlinghurst
Not far from there, we had lunch at “The Riley” (formerly known as “The Brighton”). Clear wheelchair symbols are displayed outside. Access involved passing through the poker machine room and entering the bar through an automatic sliding door. Inside, the tables were initially set high, but the bar staff promptly provided a lower table for us. I’ve dined there a few times previously and have always relished the food. Today, I opted for a steak. And yep, I’ll be back based on today’s experience.
Our interactions with a bus driver were less than positive. As I signaled for the driver to deploy the wheelchair ramp, I noticed him mouth the words “oh, fuck.” Then when I told him our desired destination, only a few stops up the road he responded with, “You do know that other buses travel in that direction, right?” As my focus was primarily on safely boarding the bus, I let it go. However, Michelle and Karran were understandably irritated. Although he did assist with the wheelchair, his attitude left something to be desired. While I refrained from reporting the incident, perhaps I should have?
Navigating the city proved to be relatively smooth, allowing us to easily access shops like ALDI, OfficeWorks, H&M, and Sapporo. On Facebook, I joked that Michelle and Karran had “taken me hostage” as they explored makeup and cosmetics at Sephora. But I came into my own at H&M. Even though I possess an abundance of clothing at home, I indulged myself with a new polo shirt, shorts, and underwear.
I recognize that my perspective may seem naive, particularly to those who have lived with mobility challenges for a more extended period. I’m still relatively new to this experience. I’m gradually comprehending the extent of research and planning that people in wheelchairs often need to undertake.
Throughout our city excursion today, my attention was drawn to fellow wheelchair users, leading me to ponder how they manage their daily lives.
It has been seven weeks since I was admitted to the hospital. Sharing my first public outing with cherished family members, who have provided unwavering support both physically and emotionally over the past couple of months, was an absolute delight.
Well, after having a clear idea of my template for the overseas trip, I’m now back wondering what the purpose of all this is. So you can probably expect some more changes until I answer that question.
Sign of the times?
Another day, another template change! :)
Well, after having a clear idea of my template for the overseas trip, I’m now back wondering what the purpose of all this is. So you can probably expect some more changes until I answer that question.