I was up in Baguio for nine days. I spent seven of those in Mirador Jesuit Villa where I had a retreat.
Part of my time was spent asking why my life was going the way it was–inexorably drawn, as if in a vortex, towards the world of the arts. Teaching was not yet out of the question, and something about ministry seemed to be bugging me. To draw the different strands of my life together was a challenge I decided to begin, walking down from Mirador Hill.
Peter Gabriel wrote “Solsbury Hill” to mark his parting of the ways with the band Genesis in 1977. All I can say is, likewise, I decided to climb up Solsbury Hill last Wednesday. And what happens next? God only knows, as always, but glimpses are all I see now and then.
Meanwhile, I had one of the most surreal experiences in my time visiting Conspiracy. The weather–and the post-All Saints timing–ensured that I was, apart from the staff and their tech person, the only person at a monthly, less formal, jam night of a group I have come to call friends.
Fortunately a good time was had, and my trepidations about being “alone” were overcome. I recall telling a writing teacher about eleven years ago that I was used to being alone, so she insisted that my “artist’s date” should be a real one. (The practice of a so-called artist’s date refers to a time of doing something alone.) I should do this more often. (Gets coat.)