The only path to salvation is through true love. But the truth of your love must be verified by examination of your art.

Last weekend, I watched the film of this book.

It was 3 quid in Tesco.

Since watching it, I found my thoughts are haunted by undercurrents of despair.

never let me go (11a)

Here are depicted human lives of suppressed anguish without rebellion. Their one hope, a false hope, is of salvation by true love, verified through art.

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This is not a warning nor yet an allegory. It is a model, a simplified representation of our own spiritual reality.

never let me go (11)

On the other hand, given my passing thoughts of hopelessness and despair are unutterably trivial when viewed from the vastness of space or the depths of time, it’s time to cheer up. The paintings were done on the iPad in response to the film.



Like the other major religions, Birding seems dominated by men with beards.  I, who am clean shaven in the week, need two days growth before venturing to a hide.


Birding cathedrals are reserves clawed back from the human landscape: flooded quarries, salt marsh, the remnants of once great woodlands, heather moors and grass downs long stripped of their dominant oak forests.


Fanatical birders chase rare species and keep lists: like all religious zealots, they twitch.  But birders are mostly inoffensive people: they don’t bless guns or systematically abuse power.


Birders are not evolution-deniers, for their witness is of feathered dinosaurs, extant not extinct.  For those so minded, the holy doctrine is cladistics: evidence-based and probablistic in nature and therefore neither holy nor a doctrine at all.


Unfortunately, one thing all major religions have in common is intolerance.  And the next person who comes into a hide and chatters …