I am presenting the talk A Monumental Egyptian Tomb In Melbourne to my first audiences outside of those connected to my paintings[1] this year.
The talk is a creative project seven years in the making, and I find it profound that the first venue to stage it is an organisation that has played a significant part in the foundations of my spiritual search and studies: the Theosophical Society.
Sunday Nights In Adelaide
The book that originally kicked me in the direction of my spiritual searching was Out On A Limb by Shirley MacLaine, but it wasn’t until I became introduced to Theosophy in the late eighties that things took a more concrete turn.
The Theosophical Society (TS) in Adelaide in those days was in King William Street, directly alongside Adelaide’s largest metaphysical / new age bookstore Cosmic Pages[2].
Every Sunday night TS hosted a guest speaker, and I went to this “religiously” – no pun intended – as part of a mandatory spiritual growth regimen I’d imposed upon myself from an early age. It’s not lost on me that in retrospect, I was replacing the mandatory Sunday morning church service of my wretched catholic upbringing with the freer and intriguing world of Theosophy, though this was not apparent to me at the time.
I learned about everything from palm reading to Eckankar, and continued with these sessions until I left Adelaide in early 1988.
I think my TS vigil began in 1985, and was in full swing by 1986 because this is where I met one of my first teachers, David Hurst, whose series of talks that year had quite an impact on me.
An ex-Buddhist monk, David apparently caused some controversy with his views on reincarnation, Buddhism and the like. He was instrumental in introducing me to the Seth Material, a body of channeled teachings by author, poet and mystic Jane Roberts. To this day I am grateful for this.
Melbourne Calling
Newly arrived in Melbourne in early 1988 and determined to pursue my career as an actor, things did not turn out quite the way that I expected.
I got to act in real life as a waiter for a rather cool restaurant café in Brunswick Street called Kafe KAOS, and somewhere during this time (my first stint in Melbourne only lasted 6 or 7 months) I had a dream where I was contemplating Egyptian Runes.
I was already familiar with the glorious TS Society Bookshop in Russell Street, and went there to ask if they knew of any books on Egyptian Runes. I felt ridiculous of course, knowing that Runes were specific to Nordic cartomancy, but I had read that the early tarot we’re familiar with today had a supposed Ancient Egyptian origin. Supposedly. So . . . maybe there was a connection?
To my surprise, the salesclerk – ever helpful as they were in that store – said that whilst no such thing existed, there was an Egyptian deck of 25 cards that corresponded with the 25 Nordic runes.
The Way Of Cartouche was the first deck I ever owned, my introduction to magick, and the beginning of even stranger things to come.
Queensland Cartomancy
Missing Adelaide’s pristine beaches, I knew that Melbourne was turning out to be a stopping point only. I packed up my Datsun 180B and resolved to drive to warmer climes in Queensland.
A visit to a friend who was working on one of the Whitsunday Islands did not work out (I had hoped to gain employment there upon my visit) and so I headed back to Brisbane.
On driving through the city a week or so earlier, I had found it intriguing. The snaking Brisbane River that seemed to divide the city into pockets, the new crystal shaped Central Plaza One building, along with the weird and decaying political climate[3] – all of this appealed to my sense of adventure.
In contrast to the ultra-conservative feel of the place then was the prevalence of establishments known as “tea rooms” that peppered the city centre and the suburbs. One went to these “cafes” and paid a nominal fee that bought coffee or tea and scones, with “entertainment” an added extra.
The entertainment was a 5-minute psychic reading with a practitioner in little curtained booths, usually involving cartomancy of some sort, but also including palm reading and psychometry. I finally decided to try this curiosity of Brisbane culture and went to The Gemini Tea Rooms in Ulster Walk for a fateful change of destiny, served with tea and scones with jam and cream.
I can never forget that colourful place where I was destined to work, joining a team of truly unique misfits, mystics, genuinely talented psychics and liars.[4] I had not planned to read my newly acquired Cartouche cards professionally, but the reader I had on my first encounter there – Shirley – picked up my card reading tendencies and instructed me to approach John and Virginia (the charming, eccentric owners) for a job. It would be my first and last role giving professional readings.
Shirley also instructed me to accept an invitation that I was about to receive – and it came not two or three hours later – to accompany my house mate to her parents’ goat farm located in rural Queensland for the weekend.
This trip to just outside the town of Dalby in view of a mysterious place called Turkey Mountain was the location of a life changing two-day UFO event.
2025 And My Talk On David Syme’s Tomb
Some 37 years later, on the cusp of my turn to do a talk at the Theosophical Society in my adopted hometown of Melbourne, I have cause to reflect on the waypoints that have led me to this moment in time.
In writing this piece I learned that David Hurst had authored books I had no idea existed, as I sadly had lost touch with him after I returned to Adelaide in 1990. He and his wife Trudy had relocated to Caloundra on the Sunshine Coast, and I visited them a few times there during my 18 months stay in Brisbane.
Annie Besant, who succeed Madam Helena Blavatsky as the head of the Theosophical Society enters the picture here. I’ve been able to access special collections for my research into David Syme’s tomb. As I pawed through the manuscript for his book The Soul: A Study And An Argument (1903), there, scribbled at the top of a page where he had made some notes, was a reference to Annie Besant’s work, and page references. The book title was not apparent[5], at least on the page that I saw.
Theosophy is still after all playing its part in my life, all these years later, as it did for some of my favourite artists in their time: Piet Mondrian, Hilma af Klint, and Lawren Harris were all influenced by Theosophy.
As am I.
[1] The original version of this talk was presented in a compact format as part of the events connected to my 2023 exhibition, Adventures In Zoomorphic Idolatry; the success of this and the uncovering of new information subsequently lead to the 45 minute version I am presenting in 2025
[2] The TS bookshop in Adelaide was also substantial, but incomparable to Cosmic Pages; the society moved from this location in 1997, and Cosmic Pages closed later, around 2014 from what I can gather
[3] Owing to the gerrymander system, the sitting National Party was barely clinging to its 32 year long reign of 1950's policy and agenda
[4]These included Maya – a woman who told me that my big mouth (she was referring to how my mouth is a large feature of my face) meant I ought to be doing speaking jobs; Cherylyne – a feisty reader that preferred to be known as Cher and may have thought she was the real Cher; Oona – one of the first transgender persons I ever met and a showgirl; Thomas, Fergus, Aaron and Laline - notable for almost all of her readings attributing problems to men, specifically, and if you happened to be a man getting a reading from her the cards would tell you that you were “weak”
[5] Given the nature of Mr. Syme’s book, I wager that he was referencing Ms. Besant’s “Man and his bodies”, 1896
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