december 2025 books...

On Friendship (Andrew O’Hagan): My good friend Peter lent me this rather beautiful book of eight essays on friendship… which I read slowly to myself as part of my early morning reflections (apparently, they’re re-worked from a series recorded for Radio4). The essays include recollections about a lost childhood friend from the council estate where he grew up in North Ayrshire; about former colleagues at the London Review of Books, where O’Hagan made his name in the 1990s; and about his adult daughter’s bygone imaginary friend. For me, a particular highlight concerned his long-standing friendship with the late Irish novelist Edna O’Brien, whom he first met in London in 2009. They ended up meeting regularly together during which “we called upon each other to complete thoughts we were unable to have alone”. A really lovely book.
The Wilder Path (Deborah Tomkins): Tomkins attended one of the recent ‘Resonate’ sessions at St Stephen’s church… (just a side note: I thought the book’s cover+titles bore a ‘rather close’ resemblance to Raynor Winn’s ‘The Salt Path’ and ‘The Wild Silence’ books!). I was intrigued by the fact that this was a novel about Climate Change (as opposed to non-fiction). The action takes place over a number of years (I found the timescale somewhat confusing!). The book starts with Rosalie, the narrator, caught between Cornish cliffs in an unforgiving storm… reflecting back on the death of one of her sons several years before in sea tragedy (he was an environmental ‘activist’ volunteering with Greenpeace) – his death continued to haunt her; she and her family were hugely sceptical about their son’s climate concerns… but, after due research, Rosalie becomes evangelically convinced that her son was right… and, much to her family’s and friends’ cynicism, she becomes wholly immersed in advocating and adopting a carbon neutral lifestyle (given a mission to save the world?) (*no spoilers*). I have to say that I was hugely disappointed in the book… yes, the Rosalie character was a little eccentrically ‘crazy’ (understatement) but, frankly, she didn’t come across as a credible individual at all in my view. It’s a very readable book – and, in some ways, it reads a bit like a parable – but I have to say that I ended up feeling frustrated and somewhat annoyed with the author (I know!). Sorry!
Sympathy Tower (Rie Qudan): This was a ‘lucky dip’ gift from Storysmith’s Christmas party! The book attracted controversy for being partly written (5%?) using AI. It’s set in the near-future where the practice of a radical sympathy toward criminals has become the norm. Acclaimed Japanese architect, Sara Machina, has been commissioned to build a new tower in the heart of Tokyo (right next to Zaha Hadid’s Olympic Stadium) to house convicted criminals (now considered to be victims of circumstance) in “compassionate comfort” (no one every wanted to leave!). The architect is haunted by a crime she experienced as a young girl… which causes her to doubt the values of the project. The concept of the book is intriguing and clever (despite my distinct reservations about AI chatbot) but, for me, it really failed to hold my interest.
The Children’s Book (AS Byatt): This is our Storysmith Christmas/New Year book (an opportunity to read somewhat ‘longer’ books – this one: just 615 pages!). This novel, published in 2009, provides a particular slice of late 19th-century life – with its precariously utopian values, resolute Fabians, unstable artists, progressive humane values etc. Novelist Olive Wellwood (a ‘magical tales’ author) writes a special private book for each of her children, who play in a story-book world… but (as the book’s dustjacket puts it!) “their lives and those of their rich cousins and their friends are already inscribed with mystery”. It’s a complex, intricate, compelling story involving some five(?) families and in locations ranging from a rambling farmhouse in Kent; the South Kensington Museum; Dungeness; London; Germany; and Cambridge University; to war-torn battlefields and hospitals. From the very start, I quickly became aware of the vast number of characters involved (not to mention all the swarming children!) and realised that I’d never remember them all: eg. which of the individuals would come to play major roles in the story? who was related to who? Hilariously, I resorted to scribbling FOUR pages of notes that I kept referring to and adding various ‘details’ as I went along (complete with lots of arrows indicating obscure ‘potential links’ between characters)! The novel covers a wealth of subjects - from late Victorian banking crises; class; marriage; infidelity; poverty; pottery; puppetry; the Arts and Crafts; war; politics; duty; and the Fabian and suffrage movements… and a whole range of unexpected(?) couplings, sudden appearances/disappearances and individual histories of the characters themselves. At times, it’s a little difficult to keep up but, overall, it tells a credible story – although, for me, some of the ‘loose ends’ were perhaps tidied up a little too convincingly at the end. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed it. She’s a very gifted storyteller.
Advent Readings From Iona (Brian Woodcock+Jan Sutch Pickard): I used this book as part of my early morning reflections for the Advent period (I’ve used it as various times over the past 15 years or so). Strangely(?), although I found a number of the daily musings quite thought-provoking, overall I realised that the words (especially the biblical references) no longer resonated with me in quite the same way and I rather struggled. Somewhat typical of my spiritual journeying perhaps.
Ridiculously, it turns out that I’ve read NINETY books this year! 

2025 reflections...

I’ve been blogging New Year reflections for something like 16 years (just for me). I was tempted to drop this ‘tradition’ last year, but ended up persevering… and this year feels somewhat similar. Yes, I absolutely accept there’s nothing particularly exciting about these reflections (understatement!) – but they act as a reminder of matters that I might soon forget!
So, using the usual sort of headings:
BOOKS
This year, I’ve read 90 books (I keep a tally as a reminder!)(last year it was 80 and the previous year 85!). It seems ridiculous that I used to be one of those people who only read four books a year – and two of them would have been while on holiday! My favourite books were probably: The Crooked Cross (Sally Carson)(I’m a sucker for Persephone books!); Once Upon A River (Diane Setterfield); Proof Of My Innocence (Jonathan Coe); The Children’s Book (AS Byatt); Hostages To Fortune (Elizabeth Cambridge); Sculling (Sophie Dumont); Tell Me Everything (Elizabeth Strout); Highway Cello (Kenneth Wilson); Little Boy Lost (Marghanita Laski); and The Fortnight In September (RC Sherriff).
FILMS
I think I’ve watched 18 films this year at the Watershed. These were my favourites: The Ballad Of Wallis Island; Blue Road; A Complete Unknown; Steve; The Phoenician Scheme; The Thing With Feathers; Prime Minister; and I’m Still Here.
THEATRE
My/our theatre-going has been pretty awful this year (partly due to Moira’s hearing struggles; one trip to Bristol Old Vic (Your Starter For Ten) and one to the Tobacco Factory (The Winter’s Tale – featuring Felix).
CONCERTS
Bristol Beacon: Graham Nash (a highlight); Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra; and London Symphony Orchestra. St George’s: O’Hooley+Tidow; and Takács Quartet. Bristol Cathedral: Simon Watterton.
EXHIBITIONS
Thoroughly enjoyed our visits to the impressive Harris Gallery (especially the Ocean Mother exhibition), Preston; Hauser+Wirth Gallery, Somerset; the Barbara Walker, Dana Awartani and Sahara Longe exhibitions at the Arnolfini; Helios (Bristol Cathedral); Brutal Bristol (Sparks, Bristol); Holburne Museum (Diedrick Brackens), Bath; plus various exhibitions at the RWA (we have Art Passes so drop in quite frequently), including: Summer Exhibition; Connecting Threads; Paule Véselay; and Paper.
SPORT EVENTS
Didn’t watch any football or rugby, apart from going to watch the Women’s World Cup Rugby Semi-final game at Ashton Gate between Canada and New Zealand (and saw my first ‘live’ Haka!)… which was excellent. Once again, cricket was my main ‘live’ sport this year: Somerset (at Taunton) once and Gloucestershire (in Bristol) three times; also watched cricket at Bedminster CC on a few occasions… but must do better next year!!
ART
This is my main form of ‘activity’! I continue posting on my daily ‘One Day Like This’ blog (a drawing and a photograph on alternate days) – which has been running for the past 13 years (since September 2012) and has now amassed over 4,850 posts.
I continue to be involved in the wonderful Urban Sketchers Bristol group (I’ve participated for the past 7 plus years and continue to be one of the administrators). We celebrated our 10^th Anniversary this year – so put on ‘birthday’ exhibitions at CassArt and on board MV Balmoral. We meet at least once a month throughout the year and usually meet up in a pub to share our sketchbooks afterwards. I also try to get to the Urban Sketchers Bath gatherings on a regular basis.
I continue to enjoy the fact that the cathedral is our next-door neighbour… and the building and its beautiful garden have continued to be one of my regular sketching locations.
HOLIDAYS
Holidays don’t really feature highly in our lives… but we did have a lovely few days at Salisbury in February; and an excellent break at Ilfracombe in June (in a lovely flat directly overlooking the turquoise sea – and the sun shone!). We also had an enjoyable few days in the Buckshaw area with Alice+Co in November.
HEALTH
We’re both getting older! Medication has continued to keep Moira’s Parkinson’s in check (which is brilliant)… but, by its very nature, its effects vary on a day-to-day basis. Rest and diet continue to be important – as is regular exercise; Moira impressively (to me) does her ‘PD Warrior’ exercises via video link perhaps three times a week. At times, she struggles with sciatica (and knee issues) and visits a physiotherapist on a regular basis.
As for me, like all us oldies, I really don’t like the ageing process… but I’m really doing ok.
SPIRITUAL STUFF
I am no longer a church service attender – which has been the case for more than three years now. Moira continues to attend church pretty regularly. I miss the people, but I don’t actually miss the ‘church stuff’ – although I do continue to go along to our weekly 7.30am café gatherings - referred to as ‘Blokes Prayer’ (and we are all ‘ageing males’) - consisting of six or so old fogeys – who have become special friends and which has now been going for more than 7 years. I suppose it’s effectively become my ‘church’ (or nearest equivalent). I continue to be disenchanted by the Church of England.
I’m a very early riser and, these days, use much of my early morning time sitting in my ‘thinking seat’ - reading words from the likes of Mary Oliver, Richard Holloway or poets/writers such as my friends Chris Goan and Ian Adams… and sometimes even writing stuff myself – and, of course, looking at the emerging day from our balcony. They’re very special times.
REUNIONS:
2025 was a year of several reunions. During the course of the year, I/we met up with Dave+Sue; Gerry+Merry Carol; Alan+Gareth; Adrian; Ted+Paddy and Steve+Bev; Nick+Christine; Ken+Debby; and with my cousins Jackie, Janet, Lyn+Barry… and, of course, more regular get-togethers with Gail+Ian; Diane+Steve; and Pete, Bob+Steve.
STUFF FOR 2026?:
• Continue to do my daily early morning ‘exercises’ (all 7 minutes of them!).
• Continue to monitor my weight.
• To walk more (and to continue my Leigh Woods/harbourside ambles).
• To jump on the bus to Clevedon, Portishead (and train to Bath) more regularly.
• Watch more live cricket.
• Produce another ‘Blurb’ self-published book (possibly under the heading of ‘Half A Mile From Home’?).
• Continue with my daily ‘One Day Like This’ posts (they will pass 5,000 in 2026!).
• Continue to attend urban sketching ‘events’ – both in Bristol and Bath.
• Continue to sketch at the Watershed, Cathedral and Bristol Old Vic.
OTHER STUFF:
My old early morning walking activities (eg. during Covid lockdowns) rarely happen these days… instead I enjoy watching the mornings begin… looking through our living room windows. I do, however, also enjoy taking the bus up to Leigh Woods on a regular basis… and then walking back home through the woods, tracking the River Avon towpath and then back along the harbourside.
Having said, my brother Alan and I also had a wonderful walk to Bath (along the river from Keynsham) in July… so lovely to spend time chatting and looking at our beautiful surroundings (Alan+I have also continued to get together for lunches in Brum or Bristol on a regular basis… and these have also included Barry, David and Martin at various times.
We gave up the car 8 years ago and, getting on for 3 years ago, I gave up driving altogether – so buses and trains are now our default modes of transport - but, weirdly, I seem to have developed some form of ‘anxiety’ towards travel (I know!). I really don’t like journeys away from my comfort zone.
The world seems to be full of so many challenges these days (even more than in the past?)… wars, the climate change, greed, poverty, lack of funding for the NHS, mental health, education, the growth of right-wing politics and annoying politicians (did someone mention TRUMP?!) etc. The Labour government has been a huge disappointment (playing into the hands of Farage/Reform?); could the Greens/LibDems emerge as key players?
I’m conscious that our ‘world’ has become much smaller over the years… and that we’ve probably become rather boringly unadventurous (who us?!)… but that also feels ok. Enjoying and recognising the simple pleasures of life and our lovely family and friends. Lucky us!
All in all, we continue to count our blessings.
I wish you (and all yours) a very happy, healthy and (hopefully) peaceful 2026.

old office memories…

One of the Christmas cards we’ve received this year was from my good friend Matthew - former partner from my old architecture practice, Brocklehurst Architects. Amongst his ‘news’ was the fact that, after 43 YEARS(!), they’d recently moved offices to Stokenchurch (5 miles up the road) from West Wycombe High Street.
I had joined the Practice in 1977 and was made a partner 18 months later. At that stage, our offices were located in High Wycombe, but I ended up designing a courtyard extension to the Grade II Listed building for a developer client and so we moved to West Wycombe in 1982. By the time I retired from practice in 2005, we’d already been in those offices (rented from the National Trust) for 23 years.
As you might imagine, the offices conjure up all sorts of memories for me (as well as reminding me just how old I’d become!).
There used to be up to 15 of us at any one time working there.
We initiated a ‘proper coffee break’ at 10.30am every day – the entire office staff (AND any visiting clients or consultants!) sitting around the conference table… and all of us (including partners!) taking it in turns to make the coffee (and wash up).
I introduced a 9-day fortnight work regime – probably 30 years ago (way ahead of the game!).
We seemed to spend ‘quite a few’ lunchtimes (and ‘after works’) at the George+Dragon pub in West Wycombe High Street!
The post office was just across the road – very convenient!
The daily 20-minute drive to the office from home in Thame, over the beautiful Chilterns (I used to start work at 7am most mornings).
The practice used to play the occasional game of cricket at West Wycombe House’s rather beautiful cricket ground at the end of the High Street.
Happy times!
Photo: This is my sketch of the West Wycombe office - drawn in 1982, shortly after we’d moved there (it’s the building on the right, just beyond the archway… and you can see the G+D pub sign just a few metres down the High Street!). 

prime minister…

I went along to the Watershed again this afternoon – this time to see the documentary film ‘Prime Minister’ about New Zealand’s former PM, Jacinda Ardern (directed by Lindsay Utz+Michelle Walshe). It follows her for seven years as she is catapulted to the top of NZ politics, becomes a feminist political icon, a mother, resigns suddenly from office and continues to champion the fight against isolationism, fear, and the distortion of truth(!).
To me, she was an utter breath of fresh air during her term of NZ’s leader (and will no doubt continue to be an inspirational figure outside politics) – sincere, personable, smart, decent, respectful, and empathetic.
I think The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw summed things up in his review of the film when he wrote: “Jacinda Ardern emerges from this documentary portrait the way she did when she was in power from 2017 to 2023 … as a human being. More than any politician anywhere in the world in my adult lifetime, she looked like an actual member of the human race who was catapulted to office too fast to have acquired the defensive carapace of the professional politician. She was vulnerable and scrutable and likable in ways utterly alien to everyone else”. Meanwhile, The Telegraph described it thus: “a shameless act of self-promotion” (no surprises there perhaps… but grossly unfair in my opinion).
As you might imagine, yes, this is clearly a ‘sympathetic’ film – no doubt edited to avoid some of day-to-day infighting of internal politics… but it also shows her having to deal with such horrors as the Christchurch mosque shootings with huge compassion AND managing to ban assault rifles within a matter of days of the ordeal (are you listening America?). When Covid came along, Ardern dealt with matters both effectively and skilfully. New Zealand seemed to have been miraculously spared the worst of the outbreak, but then a new wave struck and a threatening new far-right anti-vax mob made their encampment outside parliament. That didn’t mark the end of Ardern’s time as PM but, watching the documentary, I was certainly struck by the thought ‘Why do they bother?’ – when people in her position have to withstand such appalling hate, abuse and threats – and I suspect she felt the same.
Again and again, during the film, I found myself contrasting Ardern’s compassionate, considered actions and words with Trump’s present-day non-stop narcissist rantings and disregard for facts and truthfulness.
I was in two minds about going to see this film… but I’m very glad that I did. It was a reminder about how things still COULD be (if only the world was more compassionate – some hope!?). There are very, very few films I’ve seen where the cinema audience bursts into applause at the end… they certainly did here!! Probably not Telegraph readers(!)…

the thing with feathers…

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Dylan Southern’s film, based on Max Porter’s book ’Grief Is The Thing With Feathers’ (which I’d read 9 years ago). The film is a lyrical exploration of love, loss and the strange ways we heal.
Following the death of his wife, a young father’s hold on reality crumbles, and a strange presence begins to stalk him from the shadowy recesses of the apartment he shares with his two young sons (Benedict Cumberbatch is rather wonderful as the father). The two young boys face the unbearable sadness of their mother’s sudden death. Their father, a ‘scruffy romantic’, imagines a depressing future of well-meaning visitors and emptiness. In this moment of despair they are visited by Crow – antagonist, trickster, healer, babysitter (and a little more sinister than I remember from the book?). This bird is somehow drawn to the grieving family and threatens to stay until they no longer need him.
A man-like crow, voiced by David Thewlis, is seemingly brought to life from the father’s work as an illustrator and is about to become a very real part of all of their lives, ultimately guiding them towards the new shape their family must take. The book was part-poetry, part-drama and part-essay on grief and I think the film very successfully captured the same emotions and gut-wrenching challenges.
It's a tough watch at times, but hauntingly powerful and very beautiful too. Excellent. 
Note: Being a lover of Sandy Denny/Fairport Convention, the closing sequence of the father scattering his wife’s ashes on a lonely beach to the strains of ‘Who Knows Where the Times Goes?’ seemed poignantly appropriate: “Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving. But how can they know, it's time for them to go? Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming, I have no thought of time…” .

november 2025 books…

Sculling (Sophie Dumont): I’ve been using this book of poetry by local writer Dumont as part of my early morning reflections. She trained as a canoe coach - her own coach and partner of three years died suddenly in an aquaplaning road accident… which led to five of his organs continuing in other people’s lives. So, this book is about love, death and rivers. I read the whole book out loud to myself each morning. I found it both beautiful and powerful. I loved it.
Once Upon A River (Diane Setterfield): This is our Bloke’s latest book (it’s a long one, 507 pages), published in 2018… On the evening of a winter solstice in the 19th century, “an ancient inn on the Thames, the regulars are entertaining themselves by telling stories when the door bursts open and in steps an injured stranger. In his arms is the drowned corpse of a child…”. The novel is an intricate web of mystery, folk lore, traditions, village pubs, river communities and the river itself. It has an enthralling storyline, with a complex inter-weaving of characters and their individual stories. I found it entirely captivating and read it in five days. Rather wonderful.
Standing in Gaps (Seamus O’Rourke): Somewhat ridiculously, I bought this book (online/second-hand, published in 2024) thinking it was a book of poetry (among other things, O’Rourke is a poet)… but, of course, I was wrong – it’s a memoir of his early days (up to when he was 17) living in rural Ireland during the 1960s-80s. It begins with his birth (I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember mine!) and carrying on through schooldays as an awkward outsider and his passion for Gaelic football before culminating in his late teens. It’s full of humour-filled observations as he talks about family, friends and local misfits. It’s not a book I would have particularly selected, but it proved to be a light-hearted travel companion on my recent train journeys.
Crooked Cross (Sally Carson): Oh, my goodness… I think this is probably my ‘book of the year’! I came across this novel (first published in 1934 and now re-published by those wonderful people at Persephone Books; 360 pages) thanks a recent article in the Guardian. Carson (1902-41), a young woman from Dorset living in Munich in the early 1930s, foresaw a dark and violent future for Europe and gave voice to those fears in her 1934 novel that is now being hailed as “an electrifying masterpiece”. The book is set over only six months – Christmas Eve 1932 to Midsummer’s Eve 1933. I’ve watched LOTS of documentaries on the rise of the Nazis/Nuremburg trials etc, so felt very familiar with the history and the background, but this novel paints a political and psychological portrait of a nation and, crucially, of a family. The Kluger parents are ‘stolidly ordinary’; they have three children – Helmy, then Lexa , then Enrich. Lexa is engaged to be married to Moritz. Moritz is a German and a Catholic… but he is also a Jew. Laura Freeman’s Preface sums things up perfectly: “This is a book that will stay with you. It is a book that asks what you would do if the world went crooked, if people you loved were persecuted, if the freedoms you believe inviolable were destroyed”. An utterly, utterly brilliant book.
Devotions (Mary Oliver): The book is a selection of Oliver’s poems written between 1963+2015. I love Oliver’s beautiful, simple observations of nature and life and I first read the book at the beginning of 2023 and have recently AGAIN (I know!) been using some of her poems – from ‘Thirst’ (2006) and ‘Red Bird’ (2008) – as part of my recent early morning reflections. Once again, it’s a reminder that we live a truly beautiful world which so many often take for granted.

october-november 2025 books…

Brutal Bristol I+II (Tom Benjamin): I bought these illustrated books at the excellent recent Brutal Bristol’ exhibition. As the title suggests, they focus on Bristol’s Brutalist buildings (note: Wikipedia describes Brutalism thus: “a style that emerged in the 1950s, characterized by a focus on raw, unfinished materials like concrete, block-like forms, and simple, geometric shapes” – although these books seem to have adopted a slightly wider definition). Public housing projects, car parks and churches predominate (and the quality varies); people clearly either love or hate them. Clifton Cathedral is the city’s undoubted star (in my eyes, anyway). The second volume includes a Brutal Bristol Walk Map (which is useful). The books provide a fascinating reminder of the city’s ‘brutal’ architectural heritage. My only slight frustration (and perhaps unsurprising, given that the books have been produced using details from a number of contributors) is the inconsistency of presentation, information and references… but, hey!
Where I Was From (Joan Didion): I love Didion’s writing (she died in 2021, aged 87) and have read a number of her books. Here (book first published in 2003), she examines her life, work and heritage/family history. Lots of interesting insights – especially about the growth and prosperity (and the poverty) of California… what the railway; the industry (McDonnell Douglas aviation etc); huge ranches (eg. 88,000 acres)… as well as incidental matters such as California having the highest rate of commitment for insanity than any other state in the nation (and some of the ridiculous reasons given for people being sent to asylums (eg. a woman who had begun “to act silly, lost interest in all things which interest women, could no longer crochet correctly as formerly, takes no interest in anything at present”!). But, overall, not one of my favourite Didion books (sometimes US history just doesn’t appeal!).
The Proof Of My Innocence (Jonathan Coe): I’ve become a great admirer of Coe’s books (I think this is the fifth book of his I’ve consumed)… and I read this one on Moira’s recommendation (she was absolutely right!). It’s a very clever, entertaining, complex, multi-layered, satirical whodunit-cum-political novel set during Liz Truss’s premiership (you remember her?). Somewhat typical of Coe, the novel is something of study of the-way-we-live-now underpinned by, in my case, a love of nostalgia. It starts in the present day (2022-24) and relates to the murder of an investigative journalist at a right-wing conference held in a crumbling stately home – with various links to former students and lecturers of a Cambridge College back in the 1980s. One of these former students has been investigating a radical think tank that’s been scheming to push the British government in an ever more extreme direction (including selling off the NHS). Like I said, it’s complicated (no spoilers!)… There are unexplained disappearances and a murder (of an editor with a dull-but-respectable history magazine and a larger commitment to his truth-telling political blog)… and, in due course, despite the efforts of a somewhat eccentric detective, it’s left to the daughter and adopted daughter of two former Cambridge students to try to solve the mysteries. I thought it was quite, quite brilliant.
The Garden Party (Katherine Mansfield): Picked up this book (first published in 1922) of 15 short stories at the Tyntesfield second-hand bookstore. Mansfield was born in New Zealand in 1888. She came to London to be educated; returned to Wellington, but couldn’t settle down and left again for Europe in 1908 (she died of tuberculosis in 1923). The stories explore themes of social class, identity, and the intricacies of human relationships, set against the backdrop of the changing world of the time. Some of the stories relate to affluent families and their interactions with the working-class individuals around them. Fascinating, subtle, sometimes funny and frequently poignant (without being compelling!).
On Reflection (Richard Holloway): I find Holloway a fascinating and wise writer and decided to use this book (a series of essays ‘Looking For Life’s Meaning’) in connection with my early reflection time. As you are probably aware, Holloway is the former Bishop of Edinburgh; he resigned in 2000 and is now regarded (as described in Wikipedia) as “one of the most outspoken and controversial figures in the church, having taken an agnostic worldview”. I have to say that his views on religion rather mirror those of my view (although I could never express them in his articulate way): “… my agnosticism is not a weak, vacillating neutrality, it is a commitment to staying in a place of passionate and curious uncertainty”. As ever, Holloway’s intellect makes me feel somewhat inadequate at times(!)… but I found his wise words incredibly helpful and thought-provoking.