When not exploring with sticks ‘n’ string or twin-wrangling, I’m a clinical psychologist on an acute ward (the psychiatric equivalent of A&E – that’s ER in North American parlance I think?) Truly, it’s another world. A very sobering world, that makes me feel guilty for writing such a frivolous blog. But is it entirely frivolous? True, I joke and play here, but there’s a serious side too. Many of us (me included) are profoundly affected by our environments. A hint of growth, a touch of colour, can have an effect on mood. The hospital where I work and the area it’s in aren’t much to look at – both built in modern times without love or art. But our patients fight that. They grow plants in the smoking garden, they write poetry, they paint pictures for the walls (I’m not currently working in forensic but have you seen the Koestler prize? Google it.) Some even knit. The yearning for beauty, for colour, for creation, for growth, won’t be suppressed.