It All Becomes Clear

My grapplings with technology are a minor theme of this blog and last year I related how my main image-processing program, CorelDraw, decided that it was no longer prepared to speak to Windows 10 and I would have to bring in its younger cousin which was better equipped for the system's new demands. 

I mentioned this to Dave, the Diocesan Mission Enabler, a few weeks ago. Our conversation was one of the earlier ones he had with parish incumbents, calling round to find out how things were going. It was a congenial enough chat, in which I described how the life of the church had developed since the pandemic began, the mixture of remote and in-person worship (when that was possible) and the sense that for a long while people had really been just hanging on and coping, but since the summer had gradually been finding it easier to manage again, negotiating their way around the maelstrom of change.

Some while later Dave sent me an email letting me know about an alternative to CorelDraw, Canva. 'Lots of churches use it', he told me. Canva turned out to be an online image-processing and design package, which is all very well but as your designs and documents are pinged into The Cloud to be stored (though you can download them) and I've already paid not only through the nose but other orifices for it, Canva doesn't bring me much advantage.

Lots of churches do use it, though. I suddenly realised that all the wonderful shiny posters and fliers I've seen on church websites, noticeboards and leaflet holders look so professional not because they've been designed by members of congregations up and down the diocese who work in advertising or something, but because they've been based on the templates Canva supplies. I'm not sure whether my feelings of relief at not being so inferior after all are outweighed by the sense that it's a bit of a cheat ...