Journal

Machina Volante Leonardo wings Leonardo parachute Downstairs at the Lightbox Right-hand bike once thought to be by Leonardo Outside, fish Pegasus or Phoenix, nice wings Hazelnuts from Jane’s garden

Delightful chat with my mother, Pat, this morning, on the occasion of her 87th birthday. She recalled Herman Goering’s attempt to kill her, when she was sitting in a park south of London, wearing uniform and close by to an anti-aircraft battery.  In the distance, three planes could be seen from as far as 20 miles away as they sped north – directly towards her. She reflected on how wonderful the RAF were, only to have them machine-gun her. Luckily for her – and me – they missed.

Shortly afterwards, despite my still suffering from bronchitis, Elaine and I headed south to see a friend, Jane Davenport, who pre-dates even Elaine, and to take a look at a Leonardo da Vinci exhibition at The Lightbox in Woking, where Jane volunteers.  

Extraordinary to see one of Leonardo’s sketchbooks – and some of the working demonstrated the dazzling range of the man’s imagination, from diving helmets and machine guns (he’d have been interested to take a look inside those Luftwaffe aircraft) to self-propelling cars and parachutes. Across the road, as we went to collect the car, there was a Pegasus, or similar, carved from a single oak tree, which extended the afternoon’s winged theme.  Then home to Jane’s for a leisurely series of coffees and teas in the sun, with hazelnuts cannoning down on the roof of the nearby summerhouse. One of the Leonardo aphorisms in the museum had reflected on how sometimes when you’re buried in work, it helps to put a little distance between you and it. And it works.

Suffering from some sort of flu after getting back from Oslo, I have been doing some design work – and then mucking about with YouTube ahead of The Beatles on BBC2 this evening.  One of my favourite songs, though not yet part of my Top 16, featured elsewhere on this site, is Cole Porter’s Don’t Fence Me In, as sung by Bing Crosby and The Andrews SIsters.  Then, this evening, I came across David Byrne’s version. Blazingly wonderful.

We never met him, but Elaine and I owe Philip Barnes a great deal. Founder of the travel charity ACE (Association for Cultural Exchange) in 1958, when we Elkingtons were still living in Cyprus, he died on 27 July. The trips we did to Syria, northern Cyprus and Crete in recent years were all with ACE, and we have another coming up to Istanbul. A fantastic organisation.

Over our heads Buddies Stilted Architecture Museum Snøhetta studio Snøhetta studio, 2

Pebble-like modules for model buildings

Great lunch at a small restaurant behind the cathedral. Later, absolutely blown away by a visit to the Architecture Museum, where the work of the Snøhetta is featured, ranging from the Oslo Opera House to the Library of Alexandria. Bought the book Snøhetta Works – and have been dipping into it ever since. Have also been reading Antony Beevor’s stunning book D-Day.

False modesty aside, there are a fair few things I feel I have contributed over the years, but the triple bottom line continues to amaze me with its stamina.  It’s more or less exactly 15 years since I came up with the term, after perhaps 18 months of wrestling off-and-on – with the help of Andrea Spencer-Cooke – in an attempt to explain the core sustainability challenge to business audiences.  The term has popped up repeatedly at conferences I have spoken at this year, most recently at the Oslo Sustainability Summit, where I spoke on Tuesday.  Now The Economist is on the case.