Grace


The pilot left for New York in the early hours, and it’s the weekend here. So as I can never get back to sleep properly, I’ve been up baking blueberry muffins for breakfast. New York is one of the pilot’s regular trips, and it’s always the one that makes me feel a little – what’s the word? Blue? The thought of a mid-town Manhattan hotel, the museums, the jazz clubs … Well. It’s best not to think about it. A friend has just managed a flying visit to see the Met’s McQueen show. I enjoyed reading about it in Newsweek, where I saw today’s beautiful picture. Maybe you won’t get to see it either, so today’s videoclip is the ethereal hologram of Kate Moss the Met is showing again. The man was a genius, and there’s something about these images that chime with me at the moment for the new story. There’s such unearthly grace to them.


Once you’ve enjoyed these, we’re off to America on the blog tour to Book Dilettante (where we talk about exactly that - how to immerse yourself in images, music, anything that resonates with your story), and to Canada to Fire in Mine Ears for a review of The Beauty Chorus.

It was interesting being interviewed about the book on local radio yesterday, and having to explain the story from scratch (questions included ‘what is a Spitfire?’). There’s still so much I don’t understand and want to learn about this place, and equally the cultural references and knowledge I take for granted aren’t understood here. John asked what yesterday’s image was – it was a beautiful tughra Bismillah. I love Arabic calligraphy (even a Coke can looks sublimely graceful), but haven’t yet had time to start basic Arabic classes. Bismillah translates as ‘In the name of Allah (God)’ – and the phrase is used both as a blessing, and to precede all the chapters of the Quran. You hear it a lot here – religion permeates the day in a way it no longer does ‘back home’. You’re woken at dawn by the first call to prayer, and the cries of the Muezzins compete across the city throughout the day. When the radio alarm goes off, every English language station has lessons from the Quran. When I’m out on the balcony watering the olive and fig trees in the evening, you see the men racing to get to the Mosque – but when they walk back, they look peaceful, relaxed. Maybe that’s the power of prayer whatever your religion – maybe that’s grace in everyday life.