3 things tore at my heart strings tonight. (I've dissected sheeps hearts this week, and I know they exist. Good biologists call them valves, but my 14 yr olds thought they looked like parachutes & strings)

The moon, a big yellow crescent, slowly disappearing as the horizon rose to meet it. I raced home to get my camera and this is it over the lagoon.
Walk On, by U2, playing on the car radio.
and saying goodbye to people I've only known 9 months, but in my heart I know we would have become the best of friends, had circumstances been different.
 
They all became one, in my consciousness, and it aches.
It's not every day I meet people with whom I feel an instant, heartwarming, connection. To be on the same wavelength, to share memories, even though they were of events that happened long before we met. And here they are leaving my life again so soon, having touched it deeply. I am a different person for having known them, and grieving for what might have been. I'd have liked longer. And I think I'm also grieving because realistically, we'll never make that deep bond. I hope we'll stay in touch.

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
You can only take so much
Walk on
Leave it behind
You've got to leave it behind

Tonight I went to my first Auckland Film Festival movie, Blind Flight - the story of hostages Brian Keenan and John McCarthy, held captive in Lebanon in the late 80's early 90's. I wasn't really aware of these men (along with the many others, also held captive) until I was living in England in 1991. So easy to blindly live unaware of the suffering of others in so many ways. I remember going into St Brides, in Fleet St, to see the candles constantly lit, as a prayer for the release of these men. Brian had been released by then, but John and Terry Waite, among others, were still held. I so vividly remember my tears of joy and relief, later that year, as first John and then later Terry were freed, along with the others released in those months. People talk about defining moments, remembering "where you were when...", and I so remember where I was on both those occasions. The movie was a really honest, sensitive portrayal of the shared captivity of Brian and John. The story of the making of the movie is told beautifully here by John Furse, co-screenwriter and director.
I think this movie really moved me because of a number of things. It was about events which I had partially experienced (as in, they occured at a time and in a way that I felt emotionally involved). It revised for me the contents of their books, both of which I read some years ago (Some other Rainbow, by John McCarthy and Jill Morrell, and An Evil Cradling, by Brian Keenan), and enabled me to visualise with them what it must have been like. It reminded me of the time I spent living in the middle east, and the appalling conditions some people live in, and the vacant, burnt & bombed out houses which I witnessed first hand, often just down the road from palatial mansions (eg the beauty of the King's palace in Amman, virtually next door to a refugee camp). It reminded me there are people still captive today, and seemingly in ever increasing numbers. That in the thick of immense difficulty, faith, joy and beauty may be found within. These thoughts and more are captured beautifully in the "Capitivity" and "Freedom" windows crafted by a glassmaker called John Clark, which he was commissioned to create for a Broxted Parish Church, in Essex. They are really beautiful, and the symbolism used is explained here by the artist. For me, this is a beautiful melding together of traditional church art and contemporary events.

Goodness, what a week! I can't believe how COLD it is in Christchurch!!! How do people survive??
I thoroughly enjoyed the science conference I went down for. My mind was stuffed so so so full by the end that I highly valued a nice relaxing day as a tourist. Hard to believe that I could be moved to tears by a scientific presentation! What I brought back in my conference bag is a mere sampling of what seems to have been stuffed in my head, and I'm gonna need this next week to unpack it all so that I have something to present to the rest of my department. Cor!!!

Meanwhile, I loved the new art gallery in Christchurch, as much for the architecture as anything else. Not being allowed to take photos of the collection, I've contented myself with some of the building itself. And stayed in town long enough to get a night shot of the chalice and cathedral. (did I mention how cold it was??)

see the penguin in the reflection?


'nother reflection shot - this one looking at the panes of glass of the air bridge inside the building refracting the distorted images both through the panes themselves (see the legs) and reflecting the distorted images refracted through the outside wall of the building.. got all that?? Lots of spiritual imagery there:


outside, again:


I loved the mixture of curve & line and texture in the foyer, too:


and here we go: the chalice at night

I got through the farewell speech yesterday ok. It was a real tearjerking occasion, as these things are. I'm really sorry to see my HOD leave, for more reasons than it leaving me in the hotseat. I feel like I'm only just really getting to know he and his wife well, and I think we'd have been great friends. Some people have commented how "cold" and "English" he seemed, to them, and I must say it took a whole term for me to get to break through that exterior, but I'm so glad I did. (Last night I discovered that his wife and I have the same favourite song by Deacon Blue: Dignity... This is no mean thing, as I recall when I came home from living in the UK being immensely disappointed that there was no-one here that shared the same musical history I'd had there. I loved Deacon Blue, the Raintown album was my first and favourite... Loaded is another goodie)


His year 13's got him a labcoat, and wrote beautiful messages all over it, which he was really really touched by.

Off to conference this week, hopefully I'll feel a little less fraught by the time I get back.