Six years ago I met Australian cartoonist and humanitarian, Michael Leunig, in a lift on the way to hear him speak. I was overwhelmed by excitement and the sense that this special opportunity was destiny. That I was meant to catch the lift with Leunig. I have come such a long way since then, but I don’t want to forget the journey or what it was like to be there, because there are still so many people going along the road I trod only they’re isolated now during covid and unable to heave their loved ones around. Perhaps, this will make it through to one of you and I send my love on the wings of angels and may you know that God holds you in the palm of his hand, even if you can see he’s there. Love, Rowena
Sometimes I’m flapping my wings so much that I can’t even see what, or in this instance, who was standing right in front of me waiting to get into the very same lift. It was Michael Leunig…the cartoonist, poet, artistic visionary, philosopher, humourist. Of course, being my usually oblivious self, I had no idea. Fortunately, my friend tapped me on the shoulder and the next thing, I was boldly introducing myself and we shook hands. I actually shook hands with Leunig. Oh my goodness! I was never going to wash my hand again!!
Not only did I get the chance to shake Leunig’s hand, we talked. Even though I talk underwater, I somehow had to condense so much into just a sentence or two and managed to mumble something about him being a light bulb in the darkness when I had brain surgery. That was enough. After all, when you…
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