Singing when the evening comes

 Saturday evening. Sitting on the bus. Pouring rain. Wet jeans. Leaking boots. Cold. It’s already got properly dark after one of those days when it never even got properly light. Feeling sorry for myself. Hallelujah for the Lord God Almighty reigns, sings Tim Hughes joyfully. Skip. How can I keep from singing your praise? enthuses…

That they may have life?

Virginia Woolf: I miss London life. Leonard: This is not you speaking, Virginia. This is an aspect of your illness. V:  It’s me, it is my voice! L:   Not you. V:  It’s mine, mine only… L:  It’s a voice you hear. V:  It is not! It is mine. I am dying in this town. L:…

Torture and civilisation

A talk on torture and civilisation by Helen Bamber, followed by a drinks reception, seemed too good to miss. I didn’t go along just for the free wine, although that’s always a bonus, but because Helen Bamber is one of those people who has been around for some time and whose insight and experience are worth…

Paris: the journey begins

First evening in Paris and we end up in a place called Krishna Bhavan near Gare du Nord where I order un lassi de mangue and un thaali. Scooping up curry with parathas seems remarkably like the last time I had dinner with Harriet, somewhere near Euston, and I feel like we’re not doing the…

Walking humbly in satin plimsolls

My post yesterday morning: On the one hand, Tearfund is asking me to help Agnes leave despair behind her. On the other, Boden is reminding me that they give 365 days of peace of mind. I open the letter and flick through the catalogue. Agnes’ soundbite in the letter is: ‘Last year I had malaria…

Thinking things through with my inner artist

Last weekend, I rooted around at the bottom of a cupboard and dug out my long-forgotten jewellery-making stuff. Time for the resurgence of a creative hobby methinks. This was largely inspired by a visit to the London Art Fair where a number of little galleries had gathered to promote their peops and sell their work.…

Life hurts

Life hurts. I could’ve told you that anyway, but yesterday I was enjoying (?) an article entitled ‘the Anthropology of Suffering’ which spelt out the concept in greater detail. Recently one of my classmates critiqued an article we’d read by suggesting that while its writer had painted a picture of the injustice in the world,…