Originally posted on Medium, January 04, 2022

This one’s for my fellow non-scientists.

As humans existing on a planet, we tend to simplify our environment, we use most commonly; Earth, Air, Water, Wind & Fire to quantify the elements. Sometimes we humanise it to the familiar; land and sea, or valleys and mountains, town and country. We use abstract, practical and geographic terms to describe and refer to what lies around us. Us busy, industrious humans like things to be relatable, graspable; to be able to touch, taste or see, to be able to visualise and re-create. Whilst we may differ on the approach, either relying more heavily on fact, or own-experience, or the work and research of others who specialise in studying ‘subjects beyond our ken’ (known experience), we return to the simple for reference.

Quantum mechanics arose as a superior theory, due to the fundamental failure of classical mechanics to describe several atomic phenomena. With the discovery of electron, by J.J. Thomson, in the year 1897, the whole idea of classical physics was shown to be inapplicable at the atomic level.

Quantum mechanics is like the new algebra. In the very act of comparing it to algebra am I dumbing down the complexity of Quantum Mechanics as I write? From a long, long, distance; a complete novice’s point of view, I find it fascinating that topics in physics that hitherto failed to adequately explain the irrational experiences such as objects seemingly moving without applied force, or the slowing down and speeding up of time, and of neutrons, atoms, sub-atomic particles (I mean WTF are sub-atomic particles!?), space, infinity and beyond… now form part of the solution to explain things previously considered indefinable and mystical.

Occasionally, a friend, a passing meme on Facebook, or a book title might entice me to conquer my ignorance and look a little closer. It was a brief and odd conversation in a café over Christmas that has led me here. It began with baking and moved to a piece of research based around couples having sex for thirty days straight and (mercifully) ranged swiftly on to politics, the de-stabilising of society and the role of the economy in this, before excited children bought the whole crazy exchange to a sudden stop, with imminent tears and a fight demanding all attention.

I’m at a stage in my life where I’m not clear on where I actually am, aside from the eternal question of what is my purpose? (my strengths, my core skills if you like), I have felt almost impelled, I may even mean forced by current socio-economic policy and its direct impact on my life to consider where I stand on many things and within the wider world. A sort of emotional and practical depth-finding exercise. Bouncing my position off the nearest solid objects and then finding an App to do the maths because I sure as hell can’t. And anyway, are objects actually solid? Quantum Mechanics tells me

“…the probability of your position at any given time, in the whole universe, is never zero”

Well that is quite exciting! In my current position I am less concerned with geography and more concerned with subjects such as work, ageing, cancer, death, healthcare, money, stability…. Tangible and intangible issues that draw me into a narrower field of vision and certainly don’t seem in any way related to Quantum Mechanics. However, I consult the bluffers guide to QM and I find words such as “Radiation’ or ‘Ionising Radiation’ to be more precise.

“Particles that can actually tunnel through walls, appear out of thin air and disappear, stay entangled and choose to behave like waves”

This is how we blast cancer cells out of the body, right? This is akin to the principle of wi-fi (Wireless Fidelity — would you credit it, it’s a brand name), where your printer magically reacts to commands from your lap-top isn’t it? A protocol that allows the exchange of data via radio waves? Well, radio waves contain noise that emerges from the random motion of the atoms in the things they are emitted from. One way to reduce this noise is to cool down the radio waves.

‘Using a circuit analogous laser cooling technique, scientists at the Delft University of Technology have discovered a new way to cool radio waves to their quantum ground state. They developed a device using a technique called photon pressure coupling that could also be used to detect ultra-weak magnetic resonance (MRI) signals or for quantum-sensing applications that can help the search for dark matter’

And there we have it, (nothing you can’t hum there) but proof, perhaps, that our healthcare is intrinsically connected to Quantum Mechanics. But, “Whoah!” I hear you cry, “Wait a minute! Dark Matter!!!?” I know, it’s mind-blowing. I want to say that it’s not related to the Dark Web and is something else entirely but at this point I am simply not qualified to make that claim. Anyway moving back to place and position… we are taken via electrons and photons (but not quite as we knew them in the genre of retro science fiction) to Black Body Radiation and the magnificently named Max Planck, who says that E = hν. Where E is energy, h is the Planck’s constant and ν is the frequency of radiation and where Albert Einsteins concept of light as a stream of photons assuming a wave pattern, is given a duality of character by Planck and becomes both wave and particle.

It’s all pretty clear so far isn’t it? And (stay with me), once we get into the QM theory in regards to energy (Oh, there’s those sub-atomic particles again) some really interesting thoughts start to burgeon. I’m skipping Schrodinger, his cat and electro-magnetism and ‘Matter Waves’ and getting back to ‘position’ thanks to Werner Heisenberg who proposes that ‘the more precisely the position is determined, the less precisely the momentum is known in this instant, and vice versa’. Δx.Δp ≥ h/2π (where Δx is the uncertainty in position, Δp is the uncertainty in momentum and h is Planck’s constant).

Before you slope off for a coffee, or are rushed off to A&E with lockjaw after yawning too much, just remember this is all theory and if it takes you anywhere (and whatever the naysayer’s say, the internet is an abundant source of expert guidance providing you check for the article, or pages’ provenance first, and it will definitely make more sense than I do). As I was saying, if it takes you anywhere, it might give you pause to think a little about ‘position’ because if probability says you are unlikely to be at zero and unlikely to return to zero — wherever you are right now you are never right back at the beginning. With every breath, step, action or thought, you are moving, constantly changing position. With every book you read and journey you make, you are riding the wave of Quantum Mechanics in one form or another. I like the concept of life as a wave in motion made up of particles creating, absorbing, emitting or containing energy. So maybe I should worry less about where I am and more about simply enjoying the ride. Interestingly prominent 19C Irish physicist John Tyndall wrote

“Life is a wave, which in no two consecutive moments of its existence is composed of the same particles.”

Originally posted on Medium, Mar 17, 2022

I haven’t been to an Art Exhibition for a long time and I nearly didn’t go to this one. I am so glad I did. Not just for the welcome pop of colour from the canvases of Claudio Pestana’s work, ‘Fag Attacks the Country’ as they set themselves in traditional English countryside ‘scapes’ with a playful provocativeness. The wonderfully ingenious creations of Kialy Tihngang’s ‘Useless Machines’ also gave me a thrill although I quell a little at using headphones at public exhibitions these days and can’t wait for an ‘app’ to emerge that allows one to play back audio and perhaps even short film clips via wi-fi or bluetooth or… something not yet thought of?

It’s been a merciless year for me and lacking in fun and frivolity but the works on display by Li An Lee and ‘Linguistic Confetti’ by Liv Collins achieved a form of alchemy spontaneously connecting to create something both beautiful and joyful — a third ‘live’ piece of work. I was delighted to meet Li An Lee and be able to talk about her exploration of childhood, play and development through a series of still photos capturing wonderfully evocative moments, whilst her two youngest children (like me, Li An Lee nearly didn’t make it to the exhibition either due to a childcare malfunction) played with the confetti which formed a part of Liv Collins work on the Altar Stage — watching the ‘confetti spaghetti’ being sprinkled, thrown up in the air, poured carefully onto a small table amongst giggles and laughter, was mesmerising and perfectly echoed the expressive observations made in Liv Collin’s accompanying text about wanting to bring joy, light and colour back into people’s lives.

Art exhibitions are often an enigma to me; drawn as I am to colour, texture and form, I yet crave meaning and explanation or ‘context’ and am not often inclined to draw my own conclusions or voice my responses, which is why I love it when I am able to hear resident Artist and Curator, Mirka Golden-Hann discuss work on display; her articulate use of language is as enriching and enchanting as her own work as a Potter. It also explains, why I can otherwise, be found pouring over the exhibition programme digging for insight and clues to the story behind the work. Li An Lee was generous in allowing me a personal insight into her work and journey as an emerging artist, having surmounted some breathtaking challenges to complete her Art Degree during the pandemic whilst shut in a house with her four children, and wider family. She says she is not a photographer but her work shows an innate ability to use the lens to tell a powerful human story — she didn’t give it an over-arching title but ‘Mother’s Gaze’ would work very well.

Gates Wide Open at Salisbury Arts Centre

15 March — 7 May 2022

© JulietB. 2022

Posted April 28, 2017

I’m enjoying a new experience; two weeks of intensive training by way of induction into a large, established organisation who have gone from a government quango to enjoying charity status. As a cultural ‘fire-fighter’ it has been eye-opening to see how they operate. I have resisted the urge to draw block and flow charts and have enjoyed being trained rather than being the trainer. I thought this would be a change from working in the Arts given their history and size but in fact, operationally it seems to be an all too similar story. Whilst absorbing the past two weeks I have been reminded of the following six quotes an thought this might be a suitable poetry antidote ;0)).

You might be able to guess the originators of the quotes…

1. If you want to milk the cow, give it good grass
2. Take off your management shoes and regularly walk in your customers shoes
3. Take off your management shoes and regularly walk in your staffs’ shoes
4. Never say goodbye, always ‘see you again’
5. Don’t build a brand, build a community.
6. Flow. Be the river not the rock.

If you have a major seller (product or outlet) are your senior management spending enough time with it - to value it, nurture it and keep it healthy? If not why not — no excuses. The heart of your business is your cash cow, everything flows from it’s centre. If you aren’t giving it one to one TLC or if you are managing from a distance and thinking it’s running itself, you are heading for a fall.

Do you know what it feels like to be your own customer this month? Make time. You can have all the best ideas in the world and employ all the best secret shoppers in the universe but they will never equate to the reality of standing in line amongst your own customers or working the tills alongside your own staff for the shortest and most valuable way to ensure your organisation is providing the best service/product and that your staff have got the best tools and processes to provide that service/product. You are never too important to let your feet touch the ground.

If you aren’t aiming for repeat business, then you shouldn’t be in business. If you know that customer’s don’t return then you are either lacking in ambition or your business is failing, eventually your organization will become inward looking and dinosaur thinking will take hold. Look forward, growth isn’t always about expanding in volume or size. It is also about growing your relationships with people - even in the largest of organizations. You believe in your organisation don’t you? So make it possible for others outside of it to do the same. Don’t build a brand, build a community.

As an organisation, aiming to be a solid, reliable ‘rock’ is admirable but time passes and change happens; being impervious to it, or worn down by it is not so admirable. Rather be like the river, make sure the structure and processes of your organisation have ‘flow’ and are full of desire routes. If you have obstacles within your organisation, they will be easier to spot. If you have challenges ahead as an organisation, a fluid approach will enable your organisation to flow around them rather than be hindered by them.

Comfort zones. I wonder how many people have settled into these during #lockdown? I have been blessed by friends who via the medium of interpretive dance (social media) have kept me relatively awake with quizzes, music suggestions and witty banter. It has also pleased me that the term “food porn” has become a socially acceptable hashtag along with its anti-slogan hashtag “not food porn”. This is how my lock-down has rolled. But now we are asked to tentatively return to some semblance of normality and I am looking to prick my consciousness back into fully functioning, which is why I am about to vent about math… bear with me if you have the courage.

I used to say without compunction that I hated maths. I have a form of date dyslexia that means I swap numbers around (ie. I might think three but write down four). It happens mostly when I am tired or stressed. I once compiled a Diary Dates page for a publication and would frequently get cold and frankly intolerant emails about publishing the wrong dates. I would break into cold sweats when proofing the thing. Until I discovered quantum physics and, in particular ‘Bell’s theory’ but I’m jumping ahead here.

I need to mention my daughter’s primary school teacher who once berated me for my hatred of maths and told me that I would only infect my daughter with this disease if I continued to behave in such a manner — well she had a point. There is no such thing as a person who can’t do maths, but there is such a thing as a person who has not learnt the basic foundation rules of maths, said aforementioned teacher and proceeded to teach both pupils and parents alike… wonderful woman — it became quite a rallying cry in Primary Schools for a while. When she discovered I still added up figures in my head (or tried to) before checking with a calculator, she clapped her hands in delight and forgave me for suggesting that the school should give more time over to teaching children how to present themselves in public, be confident to speak loudly and clearly (and slowly) or how to use a microphone and how a song, or play or presentation can be improved by not making the children stand in one long line… I digress.

I once worked in the Arts for a national youth arts agency that gave me a Region and a medium sized budget and had me travelling around the South East meeting, training and conferencing with some incredibly interesting, diverse and fascinating people. One day I was at a conference in a venue in the grounds of Canterbury Cathedral delivering a session on learning styles, my point was that ‘one size does not fit all’ and that theories come and go but each individual child has individual needs and that whilst it may seem impossible to tailor education to a million different needs you can’t just put ‘learning’ into a box.

It was, unsurprisingly an open-ended presentation and it spilled over into lunch (which was very nice indeed, thank you). In my presentation I had somewhat bravely used a maths equation, turns out my group consisted of (amongst others) a scientist, two ex headteachers with maths degrees, a local government officer responsible for schools, with a background in finance…. you get the picture.

I was safely ensconced in a conversation about Bishop Stephen Langton who is buried half-in and half-out of Canterbury Cathedral (History) when the scientist turned to me and said “You’re a photographer?” (I sometimes use my own photos and sketches in presentations). He had my attention. “You’d be interested in Bell’s Theory”, he continued. Oh shallow me. My brain went ‘Bells?’ — ‘Church Bells?’ Then, ‘Oh! I had an uncle with the surname Bell this will be interesting…’ Don’t judge me. So began a journey into the heady and creative world of quantum physics and maths such as never before… Mind blown.

For me, Bell’s Theory is like an explanation of humanity, how we see and view and judge each other differently even when looking at the same thing/person/ideology from seemingly, the same stand point. I am going to poorly attempt to explain from a non-scientific viewpoint the theory but if you want a really good scientific, visual and audient education in Bells Theory start here, these guys at minute physics nail it

How does the universe decide which light photons to let through and which ones to block? What is the hidden variable that means that the maths doesn’t add up ? (Oh how I resonated with that one:0). Oh look, just watch the You Tube video.

This Bell’s theory example delves into the passage of light photons which when passing through, say a polaroid filter (sunglasses, photo filters) some of the light gets blocked. When you put another filter behind the first and hold it up to a light source the amount of light that passes through depends on the angle (rotation of the second lens). At 90 degrees rotation, 50 percent of the light is blocked but given that each lens has blocked only 15 percent of the light — it doesn’t add up and when you add a third lens voodoo occurs. I love how in the video the scientist talks about a ‘wiggle line’ of travelling light photons and how the cells ‘entangle’ — don’t we love how creativity makes science more exciting!

The point about Bell’s Theory is that like quantum physics, which is multi dimensional, the universe cannot simply be ‘quantified’ by fact-based math. Just as we, human beans are mini universes, defying logic and straightforward equations. We have these hidden variables. Which is why in todays society when, economists and politicians consistently try to pare things down to simple equations they will never deliver and often fail. Oops, digressing again.

So, for a softer example: Two good friends (entanglement) can meet another person but have completely differing views of that new person (wiggly lines of travel and degrees of angle) and therefore more or less of that persons hidden variables are exposed to the two friends depending on their perspective. Energy, light, matter.

Oh? Was that a yawn? Okay, enough. This all started when a friend posted one of those visual maths questions/problems on bookface where you have to find the missing sum. Mindful of not allowing my math trauma headspace, I started to give it some consideration. I cannot tell you how much sleep I lost over trying to work out how people came up with the numbers they came up with, even though I didn’t know the answer — although I have learnt the theory — that is that you are not seeing what is there. Said kind friend did attempt some gentle tips but this is the one that spurned this current stream of consciousness; “the eyes and mind are in cahoots to deceive you so be careful… it’s that sneaky brain lying to you despite what the eyes see…then, like all good maths you have to disregard what you think you know and work backward”.

Somewhere in that timeline of a hundred-plus guesses and groans and befuddlement I am certain someone mentions “Bells Theory”. I took myself out of my dis-comfort zone and went on a re-discovery of science and humanity which ended with the stinging news that the whole thing had been solved in three minutes by the friends mother. That was both a kick in the teeth and a whoop! for the female brain and one smart lady.

But also it reminded me of the other transformational part of that lunch-time conversation way-back-when, at some point I had mentioned my ‘date dyslexia’ using my Diary Dates experience as my example. The scientist shook his head and said, perhaps you need to look at this differently and find the hidden variable — what if it isn’t you? I went home, on a high of light photons and the beautiful alignment of art and science.

Later that week, I turned detective, pulled out three back copies of the Diary Date publication and matched them to the emails sent to me listing the dates — the dates I published were the dates given. However, another person was also emailing offering different dates. It wasn’t me — entirely. It was the chaotic way information was offered and then organised. Next time I collated the Dairy Dates page — I pointed out the anomaly. Science is awesome.

JLB July 2020

In a world that often feels fractured and hurried, moments of quiet generosity and shared creativity stand out like beacons. Over the past year, I’ve witnessed this again and again through the work of Sue Martin, an artist and teacher whose devotion to helping ordinary people explore their creativity transforms lives. From classes in prisons to community art projects across Wiltshire, Sue’s approach reminds us that art is not a luxury—it’s a bridge, a spark, and a source of joy waiting to be discovered.

Sue invited me to two private viewings last year that revealed the breadth of her work and her vision. The first paired drawings by Henry Lamb RA with artworks created by inmates from Erlestoke Prison, where Sue runs classes. Supported by The Longford Trust and shown at Messums West, the exhibition felt quietly revolutionary. Lamb, a reformist, believed you should look for the treasure in everyone you meet. It is a simple idea—but radical. Imagine what might change if we truly lived by it.

The second was Community Works: an exhibition of art created in the community, by the community, across Wiltshire over the past year. Delivered by SMARTEFACT*, the projects demonstrate that art is not an elite pursuit, but a shared, social act—one that can build confidence, spark connections, and generate joy in the most unexpected places.

At the private viewing, this ethos was tangible. The room hummed with warmth and generosity. People lingered, laughed, and pointed out delights to one another. Old friends reconnected, sometimes after decades. Colleagues whose creative streaks I had never known had work on display. And I found myself speaking with people I hadn’t seen since the turn of the century. It was quietly miraculous.

This spirit of connection found an echo in another event: a celebration of the life and work of Jill Low, who died unexpectedly in 2025. This exhibition was not about objects, but about gratitude, love, and memory. Stephanie Jalland—Director, theatre-maker—pulled the afternoon together with precision and heart. Alongside her husband Adam, Stephanie had previously brought imaginative, immersive performances to the Salisbury Arts Centre as ‘Hoodwink,’ and this event reflected that same energy of inventiveness and care.

On a Saturday afternoon in September 2025, people gathered to honour Jill’s heart, her drive, and her vision for the Arts Centre and the wider city. As Director, Jill had been both a visionary and a hands-on leader. With centre manager Catherine Sandbrook, she introduced firsts such as a contemporary Dance Company in residence, Obelisk, and developed a rich, multi-disciplinary programme that celebrated diversity in every form. Her passion for the Arts Centre—and its role at the heart of the community—was rewarded with strong Arts Council support and successful capital funding, leaving a legacy of bold, vibrant creativity.

That afternoon was joyous, emotional, and uplifting. Both Sue Martin’s projects and the celebration of Jill Low’s life reminded me of something rare and precious: that at a moment when the world can feel fractured, unreasonable, and driven by greed, wonder still exists. Generosity multiplies. Creativity is not scarce—it waits quietly, ready to surprise. And sometimes, things are not less than they seem—but immeasurably more.

*SMARTEFACT is Sue Martin a professional artist and facilitator, who works in a range of settings with a focus on rebuilding confidence in individuals. https://www.smartefact1.com/

https://artcaresalisbury.uk/portfolio/stephanie-jalland/

https://www.wiltshirecreative.co.uk/news/jill-low-a-force-to-be-reckoned-with

https://www.mayflower.org.uk/cultural-hub/artist-development/ (The Jill Low Award administered by the Mayflower Theatre)

A self-drive tour of Sardinia, arranged by Tui, gave us a wonderful insight into this beautiful island — a place of warm welcomes and spectacular views. Our first stop, Hotel Su Litha, set the tone perfectly: strawberry trees and pomegranates in the grounds, crafted home-made pasta, views from the balcony down over Bitti, and a swimming pool fed by a waterfall. Nearby Nuoro and Bene Tutti sat tucked away in the distant mountains, ancient and quietly impressive.

Motorcyclists the world over know Sardinia well. Its mountain roads host every kind of motorbike, from luxury machines to antiques and the very latest models, making journeys up, down, and along the high mountains thrilling but tricky — especially when sharing the road with (surely crazy) cyclists pitting themselves against heat, height, and beautifully built but winding roads. After expending a huge amount of concentration driving from north to south, I needed a long sleep, though the effort was rewarded with countless vistas and wonderful sights along the way. Coffee, pastries, pasta, pizza, and gelato kept the weary traveller going.

In Cagliari, we were drawn first to the old town and enjoyed a memorable lunch on the defensive battlements. The theatre was being refurbished, but the port boasted luxury yachts and a palm-tree ‘strip’ nestled below the hill fort. Surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea, Sardinia’s beaches are, unsurprisingly, spectacular. We missed the coves and the salt marshes with their flamingos, but the contrast between coastal Cagliari and ancient Bitti was striking.

That evening, the bar at Hotel T served some of the best cocktails we’ve tasted, gently numbing memories of our mountain drive. The ‘T’ was a modern counterpoint to our rustic first night: luxurious bedrooms, though the restaurant and foyer merged like a classy shopping mall, offering more of a people-watching space than an intimate dining experience.

We recovered with a day of archaeology at a Nuraghic site, transported far back in time with a party of Dutch, Germans, and a mixed bag of other Europeans. Stone-built huts and towers hinted at a civilisation that once gathered here before disappearing behind the curtain of history. Greta, our guide, apologised for her English — though, given how poor our Italian was, it would have been churlish to complain. We were grateful for her insight. A nearby museum offered a wonderful exhibition, including a temporary display on the Terracotta Army. The quality of the photographs was stunning, and the recreated figures were powerful up close.

Our thanks then go to Hotel Tresnuraghes, its unassuming exterior hiding real treasures within, and to nearby Bosa — ancient, filmic, and alive with music and song. A meal of sea bream became a performance, while the local Malvasia perfumed the narrow paved and cobbled streets. Colourful tall houses, beautifully crafted door furniture, and thoughtful street fittings showcased Italian design at every turn, both ancient and modern.

Our final stop took us back north to Hotel Valkaranes, tucked into a hillside overlooking a blue lake. The road revealed teasing glimpses of sparkling water, a dam, and hazy blue hills. Once again, incredible food was served with pride and warmth, accompanied by fresh, fruity Sardinian wines and Ichnusa beer, now owned by Heineken. In the nearby town of Arzachena, art decorated the steps leading to a hilltop temple, creating a colourful visual feast.

From here, we found white sandy beaches where luxury boats drifted past in the distance, and warm waters shimmered with fish, glittering stones, and rocky coves. Our return to Olbia was tinged with sadness, watching jet skis race near the harbour before Pelican Bay. One last glimpse of Sardinia — a large island brimming with culture, warmth, wonderful food, olive groves, basalt mountains, excellent roads, and fascinating geology.

We have barely touched the surface.
We must go back.