When considering an extension, there is only one sign of success when the architect and builders have gone.
If an extension has worked, whether it’s in the loft or stuck on the side, it must look like it has always been there.
It must somehow look inevitable; and it’s the same with music.
Beethoven composed quickly, without thought; whereas Mozart thought and thought again, he thought endlessly, crossing out and adding in.
Yet the music of both, when finished, sounds inevitable, as if it just had to be that way.
And writing is no different. The best writing moves with a sureness of foot, which leaves it quite unnoticed.
Insecure writing may be a little jerky, pulling different stunts; lines that don’t feel right, character sacrificed for plot.
But the best writing, like a deep-flowing river, just is. It possesses inevitability. How could it be any other way?
And beneath the surface of all these stories is integrity of vision which understands what is and what might be.
And we see it in Jesus. There was a dangerous inevitability of direction in him.
So when Satan tempts him in the wilderness, he schemes to chisel away at his integrity. Various out-of-character stunts are proposed, to jerk him away from his vision.
Jesus says ‘No’.
And such integrity of vision is a good call in all creativity, whether it’s the care of another; running an organisation; holding a home together; making a chair – or building an extension.
There’s an inevitability to beauty.