When Summer Starts

As with many ideas, the start of something varies depending on its climate, tradition, and culture.

I have always felt that in England where I live, May drifts its spring into summer, and that June describes its start, and yet, for you, this very same time may be far from all those things I know as summer. My summer, autumn, winter and spring is much the same. Each day the seasons turn.

At times I tilt towards the cold, at others, the warmth. My earth spins unpredictably around my sun.

Being Alone

When I compose music, create images, or write words, I am alone.

Creating art of one kind or another is, for me, a reflective, solitary experience. It is not that I wish to be alone as I most love being with. It is that being alone I better, more honestly listen. Being alone I focus on the beauty of a place or person. Being alone, I come to value the company of others even more.

Being solely by myself my need to share is fierce, my love of life: intense.

The Chance to Understand

I hold strong political views, yet avoid stating them explicitly.

Party politics in a social democracy brings together a consensus of ideas with the aim of persuading voting members of its community to entrust decisions about the way they are governed. People hold sincere opinions on both sides of an argument of how to make life better. Voicing my opinion reduces the engagement with those whom I disagree with. A place to meet gives chance to understand.