Another day of data inspection and introspection brings to an end a whole week of much the same kind of stuff, so ending it with a rather ghostly self-portrait seems appropriate. Yes, I’m in a pub (The Albert), though not drinking rum.
Well, we do still have a social life now and again. You wouldn’t necessarily perceive this from reading the blog, though: this is the latest shot in a given day since late November (and it’s still not all that late, though the evening did continue past this point).
Some pubs are just superb inside, and I discovered today that The Central in Liverpool, just round the corner from Lime Street station, is certainly among them. Keeping those mirrors free of grime must be a full-time job (although probably easier than it was when smoking was still allowed in pubs) and this is just a small part of the whole. But what I really like about this picture is the way that the reflection of the woman on the screen looks like she has turned into the bride at some major Indian wedding.
Have we only just made it to October? Blimey.
He was inside Nightjar. I was outside, enjoying the first beer of the weekend (and also wondering whether it was about to rain). I didn’t mean to get myself into the shot as a reflection, but once I saw that I had, I decided it might be saying something about me seeing into the future…. if you get the point.
It did rain, by the way. But only a little.
Another day at home, musing on the existence of portals to other dimensions, as possibly manifesting on the Birchcliffe hillside, around the upper floor of 7 Chapel Street I reckon.
Normally I would object to photos with bins and boxes in them but, you see, this only looks like a grit bin. In fact, like that luggage trolley sticking out of the wall of King’s Cross on its way to Hogwarts, it is actually on its way to another dimension. The guy’s parallel self also makes a fleeting, fragmented appearance. All I need to do is step to the left, melt through the mirror and I can be there too…..
Another day that can really only be epitomised by something fairly abstract and meaningless. The back of a road sign, warning of road works (the red lighting being the traffic light in question), seems to fit. I do like the swirl of reflected street light, caught in the window of a passing bus, and the reason why I chose this shot in particular.
Friday, at the end of a busy week, and the sun was out. I make no apologies for heading for the pub. Others thought the same, as depicted in my camera, and in Mark’s sunglasses.
How decadent, a glass of wine on a train on Sunday lunchtime. (And a bottle of water that may or may not originate from a spa town in North Yorkshire.) I like the refraction in the glass that is in turn reflected in my phone on the table.
Let’s push that Christmas theme a little further. There we are to top right, and I think this is the first time all three of us have appeared on the same featured shot. Here we await a lunch out, that was terrible and overpriced, so I will forebear from mentioning the name of the pub.
Being 42 