Showing posts with label cemeteries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cemeteries. Show all posts

Monday, June 8, 2009

Forest Lawn

It's a brand name. There are 11 Forest Lawn Memorial Parks in SoCal. Their fame evolved because they are the final resting places for such luminaries as Gable, Bogart, Stan Laurel, and Bette Davis.
Recently I visited the Forest Lawn in the Hollywood Hills, the one across from the backside of Warner Brothers studio. I'd gone to pay respects to someone I'd worked with.
It was a gorgeous day. Rain clouds loomed in the distance but I was in sunshine.
This park contains a huge mural depicting American historical events. Never quite understood it's place in a cemetery until I read the philosophy behind the Forest Lawns.

As I meander I love looking at the names of the deceased. Names that seem to have passed on as well. Seriously, how many Wilhelminas, Godfreys, Cordells or Eunices do you know? I understand why some names haven't survived. What would a child's life be like these days if named Brunhilda? Yikes! Still, the loss of these older names saddens me. They reflect our collective history. Then again, Richard Gere did name his son Homer. Tradition prevailed. His father's name was Homer. Julia Robert's brood are Phinnaeus, Henry, Hazel. Bless you Richard and Julia. Tradition, tradition!

Friday, April 17, 2009

Grave Matters

It's true I'm enthralled when I stroll through cemeteries.
As I live in Hollywood there's a wealth of famous grave sites to visit.
Did you know Truman Capote is buried out here?
I love the fact that Billy Wilder kept his sense of humor.
Jimmy Stewart rests quietly near the Church of the Wee Heather in Glendale's Forest Lawn.
Clifton Webb is entombed next to his mother, "My beloved Maybelle."
I'm not certain if she is buried in LA but have been told actress Joan Hackett's headstone reads, "Go Away I'm Sleeping."
How sublime.


Thursday, January 29, 2009

Cemeteries

Love them. The headstones, the mausoleums, the inscriptions, the long forgotten names and the inherent religious aspects fascinate me.

This picture was taken in cemetery in Florence, Italy. The one behind the San Miniato Church to be exact. No need to see the Ufizzi. The art I found in this grave yard kept occupied me for over two hours. No crowds, no noise. Just eerie silence as I wandered. Perfection.