The Possible

Had vaguely wondered about popping down to The Esplanade for the SSO concert this evening. They were doing Mahler 5, so it was a tempting prospect and the Missus was going out to do some exercise with one of her friends, leaving me at a bit of a loose end. But then I found out that the Visual Arts students were putting together their annual Gallery Night, and that decided it. A fine time guaranteed, on the doorstep.

And so it proved to be. I really can't quite explain why I find looking at the work of eighteen-year-old sort-of-artists an uplifting experience. But it is. As I remarked to a few of the ones familiar to me from drama, I inevitably will see at least one piece from each contributor - and usually it's more - that I find not just striking, but positively haunting. Even now, more than two hours later, I can visualise those pieces as I sit writing - which is quite something for someone with as poor a visual memory as mine.

And as I further remarked, I have a powerful sense that if any of them stuck at their work, as more than just a hobby, though, come to think of it, a hobby would be enough, I think they'd develop in ways they do not suspect of themselves. As ever I come away with a feeling I've just witnessed something deliciously mysterious about what we are capable of when we connect with transcendent possibilities.