I remember being very tired. All these unrealised methodics, all I wanted was a beautiful sensation of peace and well-being, expressed in a late evening scene. If it were American – a golden field in summer. English – the corner of some lazy meadow.

Wherever it was, with a soft breeze reassuring me of reality.

So it is, the time has come for the sun to set on this venture. It will be replaced, in due time, with more tender seeds. With less self and more beauty. And no more downward glances at nothing.

Farewell.

I have a few things to say this Saturday and I think I’ll work in reverse chronological order. First off, for James. Fujitsu Siemens are the devil. With that out of the way lets move on to some other things. I’ve been a bit depressed lately. For one thing the future Mrs Turner went home over a week ago. I’ve also been pondering my faith lately and the correspondence between the reality of God and the results in the life of a ‘true believer’.

I still find the existence of God an inescapable reality, but the Bible says that Christians are in-dwelt by the Holy Spirit. Fair enough, but then I have issues with phrases such as I’ve heard lately as “prove we’re in-dwelt by the Holy Spirit”. Think about it, if you have God inside you, how could it be possible to even pretend you don’t? More specifically, speaking of the ministry of the Holy Spirit as it’s described in the Bible – to bear witness to the Truth and Jesus. As a Christian how could my mind be so far away from Jesus and the things which would please him?

As I’m sure anyone that knows me will attest to, I don’t have a lot of time for mysticism or blind faith. Yes, I know faith is trusting in what you can’t see, but it’s not trusting in what you don’t know! Lately I’ve been enjoying modern french composers. Yes, of course I still think J.S. Bach is the greatest composer to have lived but he’s not the only composer. In particular I’ve been listening to Duruflé’s organ works. At first I thought, “it’s okay” but now I’m totally drawn to it. In some ways, it’s like Bach, in as much as when you listen to it unless you’re paying close attention you get an impression. But whereas counterpoint turns out as an expression of interwoven melodies this is designed more from the outside to leave an impression. Lots more registrations are used, true of French organ music in general. But with so much choice it takes discipline to write something worthy. That’s what’s so great about Bach’s organ music. He had serious constraints on him – the number of stops that could play at one time (there was a limit to the air they could generate for the pipes), no pistons for changing multiple stops at a time. It was with those constraints that he composed some phenomenal music. But back to Duruflé, in a way it’s less mathematical and more, dare I say it, colourful. There is still however, lots to draw you in. Lots that demands repeated listening. Themes and notes that you don’t pick up on until you’re listening for them.

So, imagine the great aspects of both these styles – the beauty, intrigue and complexity of Counterpoint, the expression and variety of Expressionism, and then listen to Fugue sur le nom d’Alain. Lets put it this way. I could hum you the theme, but I could not for the life of me remember how the music as a whole goes. It’s less like a mirror and more like kaleidoscope. Like all great music, there are phrases where I am obliged to feel uplifted and transported.

Maybe it’s just me, but I often wonder which would be worse. To lose your sight or your hearing. In some ways I feel sight would be more difficult in terms of getting by. I can’t imagine how one does the shopping if you can’t see, for example. But your hearing. To hear the timbre of a loved one saying ‘I love you’, to be transported by a work of music. I know some people feel that way for paintings, but it’s music for me. Paintings are simply there, once and for all. Music is created freshly every time, it resonates with your being. You can’t switch it off, you can’t close your eyes, it’s inside you exciting every emotion – joy, sadness, awe, happiness, love, fear and so on. Music is alive.

I think it’s interesting that we are told there will be music in Heaven, but not paintings, poetry or sculptures (or art installations!). And I’m sure that Heaven’s high arches reflect the richest echos and most transcendental reverberation as the praise to God melds into the purest and most beautiful outwards expression of worship.

Great and marvelous are Your works,
Lord God Almighty!
Just and true are Your ways,
O King of the saints!
Who shall not fear You, O Lord, and glorify Your name?
For You alone are holy.
For all nations shall come and worship before You,
For Your judgments have been manifested.

Finally, an edition of the Saturday Morning Kitchen, other than the inaugural one that’s posted on a Saturday. As you may guess by the title though, I have fallen to the level of talking to cheese. Not any cheese either, an atypical French cheese. In fact I think camembert is probably as French as cheese can get. Yes, I know there are others out there. The other week, when the future Mrs Turner was around, we got a Munster, which despite cast iron stomach made me feel quite off one night. Then there are other famous good ones, in the blue corner Roquefort and St Agur.. hurrah! In the hard corner Comté and Beaufort. In the soft corner Brie and Neufchâtel. Huzzah! Anyway, there’s just something about that velvety edible rind, begging to be caressed and then unwrapped to reveal it’s mellow creamy insides. Or maybe it’s just me.

This week the future Mrs Turner went home to San Francisco. That was Tuesday, it was a sad day. It even prompted me to write something poetical, such is my state. Meanwhile work has finally started to creep back into my life after a few weeks absence. In some ways being self employed is worse morally than working for a company. By that I mean, I would never, for example, do a gambling website. However, I have very strict standards when it comes to work, when you work for an employer and they ask you to bend them to get something done quicker, then at least you can say - well my employer said it. When you’re self employed you have the option of saying no to work up front. Stuff you know is just shockingly bad (work wise) but you don’t want to turn down the money as well as future money. I’m doing one of those jobs right now. I feel really strongly about NOT doing it. I know when I’m working for active ingredients it’s the kind of job they’d never do in the first place, so that’s some comfort. But if I was working for them i’d make sure they know i’d never do it before they agreed to it with the client. And here I am doing it for someone else. Why? Really because if I don’t do it they’ll be stuck (e.g. I’m a nice guy) and if I don’t take it they might not ask me to do any future jobs for them. Man, I can’t wait to be employed again. Brian, if you’re reading this, i’m a pain in the ass, but in the best way. I’ll accommodate whatever I can but unless it’s super duper urgent and there is a very good, or very political reason with lots of money hanging on it i’ll only do it right. Sorry, why would I do otherwise?

The future Mrs Turner also got me something this week. A couple of bottles of plonk from a little place she knows. That was a very sweet gesture of her, the thing is, one of the wine labels is ‘Fetzer’. I’m sure it’s fine, I know their gewürtztraminer it’s pretty good. But Fetzer. I just think of ‘fester’ every time I hear it and picture stagnant pools of souring grape juice waiting to go into giant vats. Maybe some flies are buzzing above it too. By the way, if you like gewürtztraminer try Wolf Blass’s Frontignac Traminer. It’s kind of like a muscat, very good.. exotic fruity flavour, that spicy undertone (which is what I love) and a (to quote the bottle) ‘clean finish’.

Ouai, that’s it.

This Side UpOriginally uploaded by mattyturner. Take me there. Where?
To the place where I can see.
Face to face I stare.
In a mirror, only me.

Now we may only meet where kindred spirits dwell,
until the desire comes – a tree of life.

It’s the fastest place on earth,
Light and sound bring us milliseconds away.
Through fiber optic connexions I bask in your presence,
But I want to be with you. Today.

Patience. Lord grant me to be “Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power unto all patience and long suffering with joyfulness. Giving thanks to the Father … Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son.”

And now, not long, soon.
Following lines of rapid transit,
I will join you on life’s journey,
living for Christ and one another,
the hope deferred forgotten.

Escalator Originally uploaded by mattyturner. Once again, due to various distractions from the future Mrs Turner (we spent most of the say in Swanage yesterday) the Saturday Morning Kitchen is late again. It’s also going to be short again, as the future Mrs Turner goes home this week maybe it will be a bit longer next Saturday.

Anyway, on Tuesday we went into London and met up with two friends from CCUK- DJ and Helen. Follow the link after the photo for more of that. For now, that’s me. Adios.

Dandylions! Originally uploaded by mattyturner. Maybe I should just rename the Saturday Morning Kitchen the Sunday Afternoon Nap. Anyway, because anything I have to say would be boring, and because the future Mrs Turner has already said it all, I have uploaded some photos from swizterland for your enjoyment.