In search of a creative climate

Every few months I go to my local art gallery. Sometimes I'm taken by the imagery, other times I'm repulsed. But the quality isn't what beckons me: I'm in search of provocation. The art refracts me.

I've discovered that my creativity (don't laugh) is fuelled by my surroundings. I need to engage with interesting people, places and ideas to to stop the spring running dry.

I bring this up because I've been following a most illuminating idea: if you were to take 40 amazing creative people to the Arctic, and show them climate change as it happens, wouldn't that experience ignite their creativity? Cape Farewell have done just that.

Photo by Emily Venables

I'm glued to the blogs of those on board. And I can't wait to see what they do next.

The secrets of the airing cupboard

It's your turn to wash the dishes.

Approach sink. Turn on hot tap. Add washing-up liquid. Smile at bubbles. It's a bit hot. Add cold water.

Stop. Don't move a muscle. How many time have you done this? And every time you add cold water. Me to.

Then I read Mel Rimmer's blog. She said:

"if you always have to add cold water to your bath or washing-up water, then your water thermostat is too high"

Oh yeah. Why didn't I think of that?

Now hot water matters. You know why? Take a look at this chart from the DTI:

As you can see lighting only makes up only 3% of average household energy use. That's tiny, isn't it?

I don't get out of bed for 3%. I want to save 30%. Now hot water, there's an area with potential.

So I decided to turn my hot water down. Here's how to do it if you have an electric immersion heater:

1. Turn off the power
2. Find where the electric wire enters the hot water tank
3. Unscrew the plate/cap that hides the join
4. Adjust the thermostat with a screwdriver

Mine was set to 60 degrees. We do most of our washing at 40 degrees, so 60 felt a tad excessive. I went for 50 degrees.

That was easy. Cost: nothing. Time taken: 5 minutes. Impact on my lifestyle: nil. My energy-saving campaign is off to a roaring start.

A Fine Balance

It's India in the 70s. A state of emergency is declared as the prime minister tries to cling to power. We follow four characters on their individual and shared journeys, as they grapple with life in their rapidly changing country.

Rarely have I encountered a book which distils all the richness of life. It's intriguing, tragic, romantic, shocking and funny. I was captivated by the depiction of a country in turmoil, gripped by the drama surrounding the characters, and moved by the exploration of change and perception. A Fine Balance is a marvellous book with many depths to explore.

A revelation in row 14

Last night the scales fell from my eyes. I realised that I'd grown satisfied by the adequate blockbusters of recent years. But then I discovered new meaning, a film bursting with life: The Dark Knight.

Photograph by John Vetterli, used under Creative Commons

Here was a film that gripped, that scared, that provoked, amused and exhilarated. A film that talked about humanity. A film that confidently let its hero share the limelight.

I even had a spiritual moment. That's right, a spiritual moment in the cinema.

SPOILER ALERT - I'm going to give the game away, so stop reading if you haven't seen the film (and you should, you know).

Harvey Dent, Gotham City's crusader for justice, is dead. The city has lost its hero, who took a stand against the criminal underworld. He turned psychotic before the end, crazed by grief, and attempted to kill Commissioner Gordon's family.

What will Gordon and Batman tell their fellow citizens? All his good work will unravel; Gotham's criminals will walk free. The city will lose its source of hope.

Batman takes the blame. He claims Dent's crimes as his own, and is reviled by the populace. The innocent takes the punishment for the guilty.

And it struck me: that's what Jesus did. He allowed himself to be executed for crimes he didn't commit. The innocent takes the punishment for the guilty.

Which leaves me - one of the guilty - amazed, thankful, overjoyed, and sad. But free.

Beyond the ethical plateau

I'm no slouch when it comes to climate change: I've fitted my light bulbs and turned off my applicances. I've even invested in an energy efficient kettle. Impressive, eh?

Well no, not really. You see I've reached what you might call an ethical plateau. I've done enough to feel like I've done enough. I read incessantly about the complexities of climate change, but rarely move to actual action.

Photograph by jonlk, used under Creative Commons

When I read about the projected increase in electricity bills, a perverse joy birthed in me. Here was a challenge: an opportunity to prove my green credentials. It's simple: rather than pay higher electricity bills I'm going to reduce my energy consumption. My stretched finances will jump-start my ethical ambitions.

I'll be recording my progress right here. So stay tuned for adventures in insulation.