Five hundred years ago all learned men knew that the earth was the centre of the universe, that both the earth and the heavens had been created by God and that humankind had been placed on the earth by God.

Today there is a new orthodoxy: human beings are a temporary phenomenon, the product entirely of a series of chance events, inhabiting a tiny planet orbiting a bog-standard star on the edge of one of millions of galaxies in a universe that had started with a big bang.

Presenters of science documentaries on television today are the evangelists of this new orthodoxy, which is a popular, condensed version of current scientific theory arrived at by observation and deduction and verified by reason.

In his new book theologian Prof Keith Ward makes this observation. ‘What many people in our culture seem to have lost is any sense that there is more to reality than collections of physical particles accidentally arranged in complicated patterns.’

That there might be limitations to reason as a tool of discovery, is not counternanced by the new orthodoxy. It is more acceptable to many scientists to consider that there may be, or have been, an infinite number of parallel universes than that there might be a creator.

Reason is the modern scientists' home. But it also serves as their prison. As humans our minds have many limitations and we are too limited in our imagination to have any idea just how limited our minds really are. We use such concepts, as eternity and infinity, without having any mental ability to comprehend them. Reason can only work as a method of deduction when the factors involved are limited and measureable. When too many variables present themselves, reason fails us – as any meteorologist will confirm.

To think that we can deduce any reliable, let alone complete, understanding of this universe of vast chaotic potential from a limited set of observations made from a single planet – is science’s grand self delusion.

I am not suggesting we should stop asking questions about the awesomeness of creation and simply attribute everything to an all-knowing and all-powerful God. If religious leaders claim they have an understanding of what God might be and what he expects of us, they are as deluded as the scientists.

The questions about the reality of the universe and of life and of existence and of purpose won’t go away. We cannot help but look around in awe, wonder and mystification. It is what it is to be self-aware human beings.

Maybe we will only truly understand anything once we have shaken off our physical attachment to the material world either through mindfulness (a route open to a very few) or death (the destiny of us all).

So while we inhabit this life perhaps we should be cautious of any grand explanation of what it’s all about.  Perhaps both Brian Cox and the Pope will be in for a big surprise one day. 

I have been drawing a caricature of The Revd Richard Coles, to be published with a review of his autobiography, in which he tells the story of his transformation from pop star to Britain's favourite vicar.

Some people are easier to draw than others and Richard took several versions before I was satisfied, and I am still not entirely.

A caricature is made up of three elements. There are those physical characteristics that come through genes. The shape of the face, colour of skin etc all inherited from parents and ancestors. Getting those things right is essential to finding a likeness in the drawing.

Next there are the acquired characteristics that tell something of the person’s life; a publican’s ruddy complexion, the glutton’s hanging gut, or a rugby player’s broken nose are obvious examples. And aside from the obvious ones there are many small, subtle give-aways for the cartoonist to look out for.

Finally there are the vanities. These are the points the caricaturist can legitimately ridicule.  Traditionally cartoonists did not play up disability. During the Second World War the American President Roosevelt, who was a wheel-chair user, was never shown other than standing tall, even by cartoonists of a different political persuasion. But vanities hairstyles, choice of clothes, even glasses (now as much a fashion statement as a means to improve eye sight) are all there to be used, pointed up and exaggerated for satirical effect.

Drawing Richard, one of the hardest things was getting the key physical characteristic right – the prominent and distinctive nose. It is not a straight-forward roman or aquiline nose, but one in a sub category of its own. Its prominence has to be carefully blended with its thin shape and sharp nostrils, for the angle and shape of his nose utterly defines his face. It can also be used as a device to say something about his wordly success and confidence.

The vanities were no problem – the cassock, the dachshund (a reference to dogging was essential); the poise, stance and tendency to middle-aged stoutness said much about his life-style.

This is what I came up with.

Booking tickets on-line is one of those tiresome chores of modern life, second only to trying to phone an NHS hospital with an automatic exhange in the list of frustrations in modern life.

How is it that with all the computer electronics available today to make life easier, ordinary dialogue between user/customer and supplier has been sub-contracted to geeks?

There is no way a standard website is a user-friendly way to do business. I had one the other day where I had to fill in my address four separate times through the process. Another one told me when I submitted my message that I had left one of the boxes unticked. I went back to find which one only to have all the answers I had carefully filled out over the previous ten minutes wiped.

A current gripe is with the system to book an overnight sleeper to Aberdeen. The website used to come up with an easy-to-use table showing dates and prices. I could then quickly choose a date that gave best value for money. Now I have to look laboriously through every possible day, note the prices on a piece of paper, then come back to the cheapest deal only to find someone else has nabbed it and the price has changed!

Then there are those websites that immediately after use send you a questionnaire to ask you to take part in a satisfaction survey. The most frequently asked and stupidest question is ‘would you recommend us/this site to a friend?’  Even if I have found the website stress free (which is rare) I always say no. Why would I talk to my friends about a commercial website when there are so many other topics to discuss – unless I wanted to warn them off.

Shortly I have the welcome task of booking a ticket on the north boat back to Unst. So as not to spoil the pleasure, I’ll phone. At least Northlink doesn’t have a huge anonymous call-centre… now there’s another subject.

A work of art can sometimes have a long gestation period. From the urika moment of conception to its final birth and display to the world can be as long as it takes an elephant to take shape in the womb. Mostly however the period is much shorter – as the deadline for completion dictates.

Three weeks ago I was thinking about a significant calendar date next year. Easter 2015 will see the 25^th anniversary of my kidney transplant. Back in 1990, after a long period of declining health and nearly five years on dialysis, I was offered a transplant. I travelled to Guy’s Hospital in London where surgeon Geoff Koffman did the deed.

I do not know to this day the name of the donor, but I have been in annual, though anonymous, contact with her family by letter. I do know the circumstances of her death, but I do know that a flowering tree was planted in her memory.

To express my immense gratitude to the donor and her family I thought I would like to mark the anniversary next year. The idea formed in my mind for a work of art dedicated to her and other donors.

My first thought was a temporary work for Southwark Cathedral, which is near to Guy’s and a place I walked to several times while I was a mobile in-patient waiting for the transplant to work. It took 4 weeks to kick start into action – which it did eventually on Easter Day!

Conversations with a contact at the cathedral led to conversations with Guy’s and last week I went to London to meet the hospital chaplain, Mia, and, to my delight and surprise, Geoff Koffman to discuss the possibilities of a permanent work for the hospital.

They were very supportive and keen. We walked around the hospital looking for possible sites. There was a place in the grounds, a small circle of grass, that looked very suitable for an out door sculpture. Inside, the hospital atrium (or rather 3 atria) offered large wall spaces as well as some places for a free-standing 3-D work.

Since then I have been thinking about possibilities. The wall space in an atrium is, on balance, the best position. Mindful of any art in a public place needing to be childproof, it seems sensible to place it in an eye-catching position out of reach of mischievous hands.

My mind is revolving around the theme of a tree – especially a tree that blossoms in the spring. A cherry perhaps allowing me to use the white, pink and red of the blossom to suggest the way a transplanted kidney changes colour and comes to life on the operating table as the blood supply is connected.

I am back at Guy’s this Friday for another meeting and to make measurements and take photographs. Then I will need to draw up detailed designs.

The work, as conceived, is now gestating. I have six months to bring it into the world – assuming of course that all the necessary permissions are granted by the hospital.