The bleakest of weeks

No, not me personally, I've got over the anomie in the usual fashion (the painters are IN). I'm talking about the rest of the mixed up muddled up shook up world. September's always going to be an odd month, I fear. Those clear, benign blue skies will forever remind us of planes slicing mercilessly into buildings, and this year, even as the profound subconscious effects of 9/11 recede, we have the acute horrors of Darfur and North Ossetia to process, not to mention the intractable ongoing inhumanity of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And that was before the Australian embassy in Jakarta blew up this morning.

I keep staring at the photo from the front page of last Friday's Guardian, of a Russian soldier carrying a baby away from the school in Beslan. I have stared at it so much I took a photo of it (still on camera, lead is at work) -- the logic behind this escapes me, except that you chuck newspapers, and there is something enduring about this photo.

Not much can take the edge off that feeling of utter impotence combined with the side effects of knowing that one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. What could we be doing differently?

Music can help a bit -- tonight I have resorted, not for the first time, to The Bends Very Loud Indeed. And art can help a bit too. My virtual hat is off to Jeremy for her latest Weekly Strip. Beautiful.

joella