Aberdeen is known as the Granite City and for good reason, as almost every building in the centre seems to be made of this mid-grey stone. It’s not unattractive, but on a day of foul weather like today was the effect can be to swamp you in grey. This picture was a matter of being in the right place at the right time, but yes, I could perhaps have been six inches to the right for perfect symmetry.
Even if one is a professor of information science (as Gobinder is), one may still take on the responsibility of getting the lighting in the room right, prior to the opening session on day 2 of the i3 conference…
It’s conference season… I got up at 5am this morning and spent seven hours on a train to come north to Aberdeen, where I was two years ago at this time of year, for the same conference (i3, at the Robert Gordon University). We had our opening reception in the Sir Duncan Rice library of the University of Aberdeen, and that was an extremely impressive building, with this eight-storey high twisted atrium running up through the centre.
How many generations of students have spent their time waiting around in corridors, until the time they are called into the room? It doesn’t change. Did I get the job? Not this time.
Having taken Friday off work because of the funeral Sunday was a day at the desk for me, but at least around lunchtime there was the distraction of the 2017 Handmade Parade, Hebden Bridge’s annual photo-fest. Having featured this event on several occasions before (it’s made it every year from 2012 onwards), let’s add distinctiveness to this year’s entry by featuring Joe in his home-made finery. As ever, hearty congratulations to all who took part, the level of effort and creativity which goes into this totally non-corporate event still amazes me.
The weather may not have been all that great for us humans but I doubt a sheep judges their quality of life with respect to much more than the food spread out around them — and in that regard, this sheep clearly has things very fine indeed, going by the smile on its face. Taken on the very edge of the Lake District, the hill of Cunswick Scar, near Kendal.
On 2nd June my aunt, Anne Morecroft, my father’s sister, died of heart failure — may she rest in peace. Today was her funeral, first at Dukinfield crematorium in Tameside, Manchester, and then the wake afterwards at Stalybridge Methodist church where I took this picture of my other aunt and uncle, Celia and Philip Hall (my mother’s younger brother). That’s the thing about funerals isn’t it: while regretting the reason these events start to become the only time you see your extended family. Should it be that way? Probably not, but I doubt I am the only person for whom it is true. Best wishes to them all, and families everywhere.
Now that’s a big…. large concrete thing. Actually I have no idea what function this could serve. It just continues the trend for Manchester city centre to be devoured by increasingly voracious machines. It’s like The Terminator meets War of the Worlds sometimes — which is where I came in with this shot.
Today was the summer solstice, the Northern Hemisphere’s longest day. But seeing as I’ve been north of the Arctic Circle since Saturday morning this was a regression, in daylight terms. No problem with that however. The 24-hour daylight was nice in some ways but it could become monotonous after a while. Shot taken from above Manchester on the final flight home: the city centre is just visible down there in the haze.
In this ongoing image-based narrative of my life I feel like occasionally showing that I earn my right to come to all these nice places, so here’s a picture taken at the staff development workshop I helped run today at UiT (the Arctic University of Tromsø, and there’s a cool name for an educational institution). I think I managed to provoke these people to get thinking…. which is what I do for a living, in the end.
Being 42 