Il Porcellino

Now, I am a superstitious soul.
Always have been. As a child I would pore through books from the public library on superstitions, curses and the occult, and self-consciously adopt superstitions that had never previously been current in my family. So there were no 13s in my life, I gave ladders and black cats a wide berth, and if I spilt the salt, I would ostentatiously throw a pinch over my shoulder. And then there were other, more personal superstitions, ones probably related to my own little strain of obsessive compulsive disorder more than anything else. Like never sleeping in a room with closed windows, or never drinking water from the hot tap, and never letting raw meat get anywhere near milk (perhaps I was Jewish in a past life?).
When I was old enough to travel to places like Thailand and Vietnam I was in 7th heaven, seeing whole societies that were immersed in superstitious practices, many of which I immediately picked up. The Thai, in particular, are great lovers of lucky shrines and statues, as anyone who has spent any time in Bangkok could attest.
So I have always been a devotee of Il Porcellino, the beautiful statue outside Sydney Hospital said to grant wishes to anyone who throws some coins in the box below him and rubs his nose. I adore this bronze pig, and will go out of my way to rub his snout and make a few wishes. And, IMHO, he is a regular granter of boons! I won't disclose too much, but take it from me, almost all of the wishes I have made in front of him have come true.
The exquisite statue was a gift to the state of New South Wales from an Italian Marchessa, and all the money thrown at him goes to the hospital.

St Patrick's

One of my favourite places in the City is St. Patrick's, Church Hill - right near Wynard.
It is a gorgeous church inside, with a handy little shrine to the Virigin.
Outside is a nice little garden grotto for praying in, but best of all is a small cafe in an old chapel that serves tea and sandwiches, and is surely the City's best kept secret! I love going there, and it is the perfect place to meet friends (though conversation should be kept to gentle levels - most of the other tables are occupied by elderly Catholic ladies discreetly dozing off).
I was there just the other day, meeting a dear old friend for lunch.

St. James, King St

For anyone interested, I have a really ghastly cold - but I won't go on about it.
There are a number of spiritual sites in the City that I love, and I visit them often if I have a spare moment and I happen to be in the area. I go in, sit for a while and say some prayers and, if the facilities are there, light a candle for someone in my life who needs it.
One of these places is St. James Anglican church in King St. St. James carries the distinction of being the oldest church in Australia, having been designed by Francis Greenaway (though not, ironically, as a church!). These days it is distinguished by its gorgeous High Church ceremonies and its tolerant and open culture. They run a fantastic adult education program, do great charity work, and I sometimes go to meditation there on Wednesday mornings. And their musical program is just wonderful!
Sounds perfect, doesn't it? Even better, it is almost always open during the day, and so the perfect place to drop into for a spot of meditation or prayer. There's a kooky little chapel at the side, obviously added on in the 1980s, judging by its wild design. Now this is usually the sort of addition I'd despise, but its been there long enough now to have acquired a veneer of reverence, even style. It is a perfect little spot to hide away in and pray, and you can light a candle and leave a prayer request, making it almost heaven on earth in my equation.
Oh, and sometimes (it has exceedingly eccentric opening hours) the extraordinary children's chapel is open in the crypt, and that is my friend Maggie Hamilton's favourite place in Sydney.

World Youth Day

I think World Youth Day sucks for all kinds of reasons.
I don't think that any of the tiers of government should be financially supporting any kind of private religious celebration, and the fact that NSW Labor is speaks to the corruption, the social conservatism and the dominance of the Catholic church in that party. It's just not healthy, no matter how you care to spin it.
I also resent the fact that WYD is really just presenting one face of Catholic spirituality, and its a pretty ugly face. It's a kind of Nuremberg Rally of right-wing Catholicism, and I resent being exepected to be excited about it. Don't tell me how much money it's going to contribute to the local economy (not half as much as the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, which gets zilch from the government), or how wonderful it will be to have the streets filled with wholesome, Christian young people intent on doing good. I would suggest that the central message of WYD does a lot of bad to, for example, young gay and lesbian people, or young people who might happen to be Hindu or Buddhist, or young people who might want to retain the freedom and integrity to formulate their own beliefs free from the dogma and dictates of an authoritarian institution.
That said, there are going to be some fabulous high-camp moments that I am just not going to miss. These include:

1. Viewing the body of the Blessed Pier Giorgio - we rarely get to see the fossilised remains of dead people in Australia, and I wouldn't miss this macabre spectacle for the world.

2. The live Stations of the Cross - high-camp, real-life drama in the tradition of Jesus Christ Superstar. And the guy playing Jesus is a fox!

3. The Religious Orders Fun-Fair in Hyde Park - that's right, just across from the Cathedral they're setting up a kind of garden fete to encourage kids to join religious orders. Will there be a Franciscan jumping castle? The Benedictine super-slide? Put the balls in St. Therese's mouth? The possibilities are endless, and the implications of a pilgrims' fair are way too Chaucerian for me to pass up. I'm secretly hoping they will be selling indulgences.

4. Mary Mackillop's Tomb as Disneyland - the good Josephite sisters are ramping up operations at their actually quite tasteful headquarters in North Sydney. They are installing porta-loos and hot dog stands and charging punters 10 bucks to get into the church and spend some quality time at Mother Mary's tomb. Or you can buy a $30 all-day ticket which includes a continental breakfast and a whirlwind tour through the bizarre museum out the back that no-one ever visits.

I'm sure that there are actually some good and worthwhile events happening too. I am aware, for example, that the wonderful people at the World Christian Meditation Community - genuine good guys - will be operating an alternative space all week at the Paddington Uniting Church, where people can go and meditate and spend some quiet, genuinely contemplative and spiritual time. But for the most part the whole WYD event is an exercise in bombast, chauvinism and tackiness, and on balance it has done enormous damage to the reputation of the Catholic Church in Australia.

Queen Victoria Building

I work right near the Queen Victoria Building, and the other day I was walking to work quite early in the morning and glanced up and saw just how beautiful it was. That's when I took this photo.
Years ago Thang and I lived in a rather awful little flat just across the road from the QVB. This was in the days before CCTV, Security Guards and general paranoia, and one evening we went with a friend to explore the QVB. We walked up and up, opening little doors fearlessly and scaling ever smaller steps. Nobody attempted to stop us (oh, the innocence of those days!) and eventually we pulled open a door only to discover that we were on the roof of the building. It was early evening, and being up there among the cupolas and statues was quite surreal - one of those magical events which would be impossible to ever re-create.
Years later I worked for a while in a ditzy little gift shop on the top floor of the QVB (I was helping out a friend who owned the store). It was situated right next to that ghastly novelty clock, and day after day, hour after hour I was subjected to the tinny music and melancholy whirring of that clock and its frightening little dances and dioramas.

St. Andrew's

Last night I went to meditation with a dear friend who is interested in deepening his meditation practise and in exploring Buddhism. I had to wait for Thang outside St. Andrew's, and I couldn't help but reflect on how such a beautiful building could be devoted to such an ugly spiritual vision. In most big cities the Anglican Cathedral represents a reasonably broad and inclusive vision of Anglicanism. Indeed, in places like Grace Cathedral they embody the very spirit of spiritual progressivism. But in Sydney the Anglican church is ruled by closed-mined religious bigots, and the glorious St. Andrew's Cathedral that dominates central Sydney is a bastion of the lowest and most simple-minded variety of evangelicalism. What a waste.