Geoff Phillip was Cliff's cousin. He died on his 65th birthday
from Cancer. He was June's elder child and her only son. June
is Audrey's olest sister. Audrey is Cliff's mum.
I had never met Geoff, but attended a memorial for him at the
hotel where he permantely resided.
From the self indulgent film he made prior to his death and from
my listening to the conversations of those people who did know
him I concluded he was a lost man child.
He had fench words interspaced throughtout the film. I got the
impression he thought the French were arty and thus the 'frenching'
of his name from Geoff to Jeffoir.
An adult that lived his life for himself. A person who never
really knew who he was.
He pottered around in different jobs over his lifetime but
did not settle to one thing.
He helped with various bands, doing their lighting.
In the 70's he dressed and looked like John Lennon.
In the 90's he dressed and looked like Mick Jagger.
He left behind a few bits of furniture, some clothes and
books and a lovely daughter. Not really much for a lifetime.
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About Me
- Gloria
- I have lived in the Latrobe Valley since 1974. My married name is McDougall. My maiden name was Henning. I was born In Sydney, New South Wales. I attended Catholic schools all my life. Going to boarding school in high school. My mother died when I was 12 and my father remarried within 7 months. I am now divorced with three children, Donald 38, Margaret 35 and Kathleen 31. I am engaged to Cliff Thornton, who owns a local second hand book shop, where I help out three days a week.
3 comments:
I don't think it was a life insignificant, as this upcoming event does pay tribute:
https://www.facebook.com/events/379827818733508/
Gloria I read your blog entry about Geoff’s passing and was sad that you got such a negative impression of him. I knew Geoff for over 25 years and knew him to be one of the most vibrant and engaging people that I have ever had the good fortune to be friends with. Geoff was dynamic, he was resourceful, he was creative, he read extensively, listened critically and looked deeply. He had an innate aesthetic sense that was second to none. Sure, Geoff made lots and lots of mistakes because he tried things and pushed himself, but he was never boring or mediocre and he Carpeied the living daylights out of the Diem.
He was a skilled artist/sculptor who exhibited in a number of regional and commercial galleries. He was a ceramicist whose work was lauded by others as lyrical and beautifully crafted. He was a great illustrator, a typographer, a graphic designer who ran a successful agency for many years. He designed sets and lighting for bands and nightclubs. He was a musician, poet and writer, a dab hand at either sewing clothes or rigging scaffold. Geoff more importantly helped people; he mentored them and encouraged them to do better. He shared his knowledge and experience. He commanded the respect of his peers in most of these fields and beyond.
Indeed, Geoff was child like, but in his sense of wonder, his excitement and enquiry, it was inspiring and motivating to be around, and to be honest often tiring. As a younger man he wore elegant suits, as an older man he wore rave gear, he most certainly didn’t die wondering what might have been, as most of us will.
You have to understand that Geoff didn’t much care what you and I thought of him or his lack of money or his dress or his age. He wasn’t angry or deluded or lost, he just quite frankly didn’t care that much about social status or approval. I imagine he wouldn’t have cared two hoots what you wrote about him (he would have corrected the spelling mistakes and grammar, he was a stickler for clear communication), he would have just shrugged and moved on to whatever his next project was.
The film was made not by Geoff, but by some students, I think, was hilarious and ironic and showed a man, that although close to dying was still true to his unconventional ideals, dignified and generous and open and supportive.
Lots of grown men and women cried at his wake. Not huge sobs, but interrupted stories as musicians, artists, young clubbers, old punks, millionaires, school friends and others wiped their eyes, swallowed a sad truth and continued on with the party for their dear friend.
He left a wonderful daughter, some beautiful artworks and a lasting and positive impression on the lives of many people. I hope we achieve half of what he did.
Regards
Ian wells
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