I've loved kaleidoscopes since I was a child. The first time I looked into one I felt my eyes were opened to so many new possibilities. For, in the days before computers and digital design, they were the nearest thing to re-shaping and re-colouring a child's world. Telescopes, and microscopes, could be fun too, but kaleidoscopes were the real magic. After all, a telescope, or microscope, can help focus, examination and perspective, but a kaleidoscope opens up the imagination. Whereas a telescope, or microscope, is essentially binary, and, at best, three dimensional, a kaleidoscope is full of changing elements. A telescope, or microscope, can indeed also disclose amazing aspects of the heavens or the tiniest details of life. A kaleidoscope however can open up the soul, nurturing engaged wonder in the interaction of eye and hand, and the power of human creation in the play of perception and desire, In other words, In its glistening, altering patterns and creative transitions, it can become an icon of spirituality, constantly re-defining identity. It is, if you like, a symbol and means of transfiguration. For a little child like me, knowing I was different, it certainly helped me sense that the world could be much more diverse and colourful than the bounds of simplistic explanation offered. It also encouraged me to realise that, as with a kaleidoscope, I might come to change the patterns of my world, and perhaps even - who knows how - my own body into a more glorious expression...
The Revd Dr Jo Inkpin: