buddhist monks spend weeks preparing complex pictures made from coloured sands for festivals. after the festival the sand pictures are washed away in sacred streams:
the ephemeral accepted and celebrated.
last night a programme on sibelius: his 5th symphony: hewn from granite.
like stonehenge: built to last.
both mirror the 'desire for the eternal' but from completely different ends.
newsnight review: van gogh's letters.
so his paintings were not as instinctive as I thought?

it's been a bad week.
wednesday thursday no psalms.
but thursday: silent prayer.
today I realised that the silent prayer had been the heart of my day.
struggling again with the psalms:
sung tentatively.
much gained
but this knowledge is not storeable: I must remember this