It is the spaces between us that make us.

Chatting to an artist friend, who also happens to be a skilled psychologist, I asked her how she managed to capture her landscapes so realistically. "Well," she said, "One of the most useful things anyone has ever taught me is that, when painting, you should always look at the spaces between things, as well as trying to paint the subject itself."

A similar rule applies in music. In music, timing is all important. It is often the pauses, the beats between the notes, that give a piece its own particular atmosphere. Without the pauses, the notes would jangle horribly together, and the result would just be noise. You need the spaces to enable the notes to reverberate together properly.

Sitting in communal silence this morning, it struck me how there are parallels to be found between music, art and life. We need these pauses for, without them, life is just noise. For me, silence is an important part of my music.

Calon Lân

I don't ask for a luxurious life,
the world's gold or its fine pearls:
I ask for a happy heart,
an honest heart, a pure heart.

Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus,
Aur y byd na'i berlau mân:
Gofyn wyf am galon hapus,
Calon onest, calon lân.

Attempting to explain restorative justice to a three-year-old...

My daughter is three-and-a-half. She asks questions. Lots and lots of questions. Like 'where do pigeons sleep?' and 'what is France?' and 'Mummy, do you really exist or are you just pretend?' Usually she asks these questions just as I am about to tuck her into bed and switch off the light, because she's quite crafty, is my daughter. Anyway, we were telling a story together over lunch, which is one of our favourite things to do, and she invented this story about a caterpillar who is sitting sunning himself on a leaf and along comes a Monster, who scratches him. 'So what shall we do to the Monster?' I ask her. 'Well...we could hit him,' 'But hitting is wrong, isn't it?' She sits and thinks a while. 'I know,' she says, 'I've got an idea!' 'Yes?' 'We could get a Giant. And the Giant could come and squish the Monster. And then everyone'd be happy.' 'Maybe,' I say, 'But then we've got a big, horrible Giant and everybody is scared of the Giant...' 'Perhaps we can put the Monster in the bin!' 'A bit like 'time out'?' 'Yes. A bit like that. And then he will cry and say he is sorry and promise to be a friendly Monster and then they can all be friends again!' It's only very recently that she has started talking about things in terms of 'goodies' and 'baddies' (which, possibly, she's picked up from the playground), a concept which was previously unfamiliar. It strikes me that most of the tales I grew up with revolved around 'bad guys' (or more frequently witches) getting punished by 'good guys' - and I remember playing 'goodies and baddies' in the playground, aged six. Perhaps the myths we give our children are those our society grows up with. Perhaps I am being silly. Maybe I am over-cautious. But I think that these things matter.

Yes, I'm back

I haven't posted for ages, but intend to restart this blog for several reasons. First, I really need somewhere to share my thoughts, rants, musings and so on. Also, I've just started the new course for Quakers, Becoming Friends, so I am hoping this will spin off into some interesting discussions, and intend on using this blog to share some of what I learn. I hope you enjoy xx