I have had one of those weekends where I did virtually nothing but still reached the end feeling no more refreshed than I was on Friday afternoon. The Handmade Parade, in all its colour and movement, had been taking place earlier in the day but I do not feel I got a representative picture of it — the day was much more as seen here, kind of soft-focus and dim. The recent run of interiors therefore continues.
I don’t care that I haven’t captured him actually picking up the piece. Somehow it works just fine like this, and chess is an intrinsically black-and-white subject matter.
The point of travelling to Scotland was to be in attendance for at least one of the sessions of Joe’s final year exhibition, or should I say the Abertay Digital Graduate Show. Not that this piece of artwork is ‘digital’, but it seems that the BA Games Design and Production projects can be in whatever medium one likes. At least you can’t get an AI to do this kind of stuff. Good luck to them all.
That faceless mass of hair over there is Joe, down on one of his occasional visits from Dundee. This being the case, an afternoon off work was called and more exciting pursuits engaged in. And Totopoly is a pretty good game, all in all — it keeps up the interest to the end. Number 9 won, by the way — and it was my horse.
It was a tense one, but I think Jack (on the left and playing white) just nicked it in the end.
One might think that Jenga and Red Stripe are a risky mix in the first place, but Tom’s ‘reacharound’ move just adds to the tension on this Friday night match-up. However, though the tower did fall — they always do, in the end — it was not for another few moves yet.
I wasn’t participating, just documenting. And out celebrating having finished the end of the latest bout of marking.
Clare has her daily fix of brain food, but though this particular game is on her phone, she brings it up for my entertainment. I get most of them first go, to be honest. This one’s easy: we were there, not three months ago.
On the move again. A scene on the train to London, where I will be for the whole week to come. The field of poppies outside — somewhere near Doncaster — was so extensive that I had time to see it, get the camera out, set up the shot and still capture it OK, despite moving at around 75 miles per hour at least. I believe black won the game in the end.
Some people may have gone back to work today, but neither Clare nor I did. So, a game of Mensa Connections it was, then. She won. 2-0 as it happens.
Being 42 