In Memory of a Princess

I was four when Return of the Jedi came out. I don't remember seeing it, but I do remember Dad giving me a book with pictures of the characters in it. I remember being jealous of a kid with toy lightsaber I saw at Jenolan Caves. And I remember my Star Wars toys. I'd get some every birthday and Christmas for years. I still have them - to be honest I now have more than I did as a kid.

At the heart of all that was Princess Leia, a strong woman, born leader, attitude to spare and incredibly loving and compassionate. She'd get her hands dirty, take charge when needed, lend an ear. She was everything anyone could want to be.

Carrie Fisher brought Leia to life. Not just by playing the role, but in the script too. I recently saw a page of the screenplay for The Empire Strikes Back with handwritten edits she made. The scene is vivid in my mind and it's her edits that make it memorable. And that's the thing, Carrie Fisher was so much more than a fictional princess.

She was strong - she overcame addiction, lived with mental illness, and faced those things publicly with grace and humour. A lot of humour. It is perhaps more her wit and her writing skill that she should be remembered for, than a role she fell into so long ago. But she made that role her own, and made Leia such an icon, that she will always be associated with and as her.

I met her for but a moment as she signed a picture for me, and in those moments she made me feel that she was not above me, there was no ego, just a woman having a good weekend in Sydney and meeting fans. I described that meeting at the time, so I won't go on about it. But it confirmed to me the talk that she was an amazing and kind person.

The news of her death was the first thing I saw this morning when I looked at my phone over breakfast. Since then I have been forlorn and struggling to get going. I cannot mourn Princess/General Leia, she's not dead and will be on the screen again in a year. At the same time, the woman who breathed life into her is. The reverse of Han Solo in the trippy world of cinema. And a great writer, and wonderful woman who was a powerful and honest role model and advocate, has died. But I know one thing - she would not want someone who barely knew her to be sitting about moping over her death. She might well, and probably would, understand why I grieve, but she would not want that to hold me back. She fought, even in her last days she fought, and she created. She achieved through perseverance and determination and not giving in to dark thoughts and maudlin feelings.

So I won't either. Let's all honour the real life woman behind the icon and not give in to the darkness. Let's stand up, speak up, and make art.

Keep dreaming

When the fans cry

My train is going along through a mist tainted gold by the morning sun. A journalist wept. My wife wept. Thousands more are weeping. It's not the first time this year either. First Bowie, now Prince. There are others but not quite on that level.

When some celebrities die there are complaints about the media caring more for one Western life than hundreds of others. These are valid statements and at times very on point.

But with some figures, usually artists, there is a reason for media coverage and mass declarations of grief. These are the artists who have touched society. They have touched thousands of individuals. They have inspired. They have consoled. They have elated. They have caused change.

When these people die, someone who has been an intimate part of our lives has died. We probably never met them, we may not have liked them if we did, but their art is a part of our lives. And for that we will always mourn.

Keep dreaming - you know they did.