after prayer today I played bach: carefully practising my preludes and fugues.
at certain moments there was understanding without understanding: a happy purposelessnes;
that is, I was not searching around for a reason to be playing: I was playing for the sake of playing, and when I yearned for purpose I thought of you.

strangely enough, at one point in my prayer today I was thinking about whether I shouldnt try to do a little painting myself.
it was only a brief thought: I won't be rushing out to buy paints.

I'm reading 'silence and honeycakes' by Rowan Williams. It's about the desert fathers, and particularly macarius (who is mentioned in the hermit's thatch blog today also). Williams has completely changed my mind about the very nature of the desert fathers' spirituality. I'll quote some later.