Leunig's Last Clue

Cafe Locked Out

Leunig. 12/24

One of the roles of great artists is to navigate the human soul and bring back any clues they find for us to ponder. At a time when our perceived identity could have supported us all, like an indomitable perch in time, he was embraced by governments, mainstream media, the arts, and the people. Every quirky image he produced—and that we published—bred hope, because it was clear that, whether we believed him or not, or whether we ever understood the clue, as a people, we were willing to look at the questions he’s found.

Then, post-COVID, he began bringing back clues that hinted at a cold shift in our collective core. Because the powers that be didn’t want these clues published, and because we, the people, had lost the strength to look, he was cast out.

We wanted to categorize him as old and irrelevant. What we didn’t realize was that his greatest clue was yet to be revealed. He had to leave us that one—by leaving us.

Australia, our souls are in dark times, and our greatest canary—the one who sang with a voice so light and deep it connected us all—has died. But before dying, we tried to smother his voice. And that’s the clue he left us.

Today, many will actively ignore our cancelling of him in order to celebrate his work.

It’s like we’re all trying to secretly glue his unique wings back on to his legacy.

And that is the final clue he is leaving us.

Can you see it?

Leunig was Leunig long before many of us were born— he was declared, whilst alive, a national living treasure. And while, in the future, he will be ever more revered, but the final image he left our generation is a portrait of us.

There we are, lost and looking into the vast space he has left, with his glorious wings —the ones we silently allowed The Age to clip— in our hands with a tube of pointless glue.

Michael Gray Griffith