There are times when it seems as though everything turns ugly all of a sudden. 8.00 am: A communion. 9.15 am: Studiology: For sometime, while undertaking the final phase of the CD project, I’ve wanted to conduct a methodical exploration of a guitar and amp, pure and simple. And, then, add effector components one at a time, either in front…

8.00 am: A communion. 8.30 am: I had a text correspondence with one of our PhD students, who was due to deliver a paper at a Oxford University today, and engaged general Inboxery activities. No. 2 (decaffeinated): There’s a type of problem that appears to have no satisfactory resolution. It’s called a dilemma, wherein all possible alternatives to a situation…

8.00 am: A communion. 8.45 am: Into the Inbox to deal with emergency requests. (In the background, Brian Eno’s Another Green World.) I opened Blackboard once more, and ploughed on. I’d developed a dexterity. But it was still too much like bookkeeping for comfort. Where economies and efficiencies of working practice could be discerned, I pursued them with vigour. Somethings…

To everything there is a season,A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born,And a time to die(Ecclesiastes 3.1–2). Over the past few weeks, five people whom I’ve known, as either family members or friends or acquaintance, have either died or are passing away even as I write. Death sweeps across our lives like a plague wind, on occasions. At such times we…

I am tired; I am weary, I could sleep for a thousand years (Velvet Underground, ‘Venus in Furs’). Sunday, June 2. 2.00 pm: I ran to Llanbadarn Village with the Velvet Underground pounding in my ears. My habit is to break journey at the church, which is one of the few in the area that remains open between services: The…

6.15 am: I ran to the Promenade and back: There were few others about, save a homeless man sleeping rough in the Public Shelter, an ample young man pulling an equally ample suitcase, three eastern women togged-out in spectral gym gear, and a senior lady walking a very small dog, who smiled and said ‘Good morning!’ as I pulled myself…

Listen to me in silence (Isaiah 41.1). 8.00 am: A communion. We suffer most when unable to comprehend the purpose of either our own or other people’s distress. Apparently meaningless affliction or loss is so hard to bear. Thus, we should never cease to ask: ‘Why?’ While an answer may not be immediately forthcoming, it may yet be discoverable in…

9.00 am: The weather was peculiarly apposite: sullen-grey and indifferent to suffering – like on the day after my paternal grandmother died. And life goes on in a stupid way, still, thereafter. I turned ‘.doc’ files into ‘.pdf’ files, reduced 100% to 30%, aggregated marks, and entered them on tables. There was an end to it in sight, however. 11.00…

How is the gold become dim (Lamentations 4.1). 6.30 am: I awoke, showered, breakfasted, and dispatched various domestic jobs before settling to the morning’s communion. I addressed a necessary corrective. In the maelstrom of daily stresses and strains, it’s easy to drift from these moorings. The psalmist presents not just a series of divine commendations, but the testimony of a…

7.00 am: Showered. 7.45 am: Following breakfast, I pressed on (quite literally) with what remained of the ironing. (Socks and other delicates would be coupled and sorted at the close of the evening.) Ironing can be a contemplative activity. As I flattened the terrain of tea towels, t-shirts, and trousers, my mind unfolded ideas and wistful hopes, and smoothed-over problems…