If nothing else, this evening has served as a welcome reminder that it pays to be outgoing and friendly, and that I can thrive whenever pushed to be so. To hell with comfort zones!
Heading to Berlin. See you there?
I rarely have anything good to say about Uber, but thanks to this uncharacteristically restrained work from Wolff Olins, I have to admit that I find their latest rebrand to be damn near perfect. Perhaps finally there are some adults in the room.
A familiar story: England take an early lead only to eventually lose. Heightened expectations following this summer’s World Cup campaign now restored to more realistic levels.
On the occasion of my brother’s wedding anniversary, wishing my eldest niece Maria a happy 8th birthday, and welcoming to the world my fourth niece (fourth!), Emily. Phew!
Google decries URLs as being confusing and untrustworthy. Meanwhile, Google obfuscates URLs via AMP, and appends them with UTM codes for tracking. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
Visiting Brixton has been a revelation! Thanks go to @aajhiggs for introducing me to its many gastronomic delights.
It’s mid-afternoon, and yet only now do I realise that today is in fact Thursday, not Friday. 😳
I love a good wedding, not least one in which the live music is provided by an uncanny David Bowie tribute act that does a sideline in Larry Grayson impressions. Bizarre. Anyway, congratulations Lewis and Sarah!
Held my first session mentoring another designer today. Felt good to pass on the fruits of 15 years experience in the field.
Boarding the 15:30 LNER service to King’s Cross signals the end of my week-long adventure up north. Returning inspired and invigorated, thoughts turn to when I can make a return visit.
Emil Nolde’s colourful expressionist work appeals to my aesthetic sensibilities. Yet his anti-Semitic views and support for the Nazis (who deemed his art to be degenerative) make him hard to admire. It’s that age old quandary; can you separate art from the artist?
Out of five backpacks emerged a story about loss and acceptance, told via the fantastically analogue medium of shadow play. Touching, humorous and inventive, @TheBackpackEns’s The Search for a Black-Browed Albatross was an unexpected joy.
The Edinburgh Fringe is a victim of its own success. With so much on offer, audiences face a paradox of choice. Sat in a coffee shop at the Pleasance Dome unsure what to see, I was given a spare ticket to The Search for a Black-Browed Albatross. Problem solved.
Walking west along Princes Street, I make my way through the throng of festival goers and find myself drawn to the sun drenched Old Town and the cragged rock upon which the castle sits. A squeal of train brakes emanates up from where once was – and seemingly could still be – a loch. There are few places quite as architecturally, topographically and culturally rich as Edinburgh. I love this city.
Applied Trigger’s broom philosophy towards the upgrade of my phone. Same phone, but replaced its battery and case. As good as new!
While tonight’s result is disappointing, I doubt the agony will live as long in the memory as that felt after England’s semi-final exit from Euro ’96. I guess penalties will do that to you.
At the start of this campaign, you’d have taken going to extra-time in a semi-final. Proud of the Three Lions. Our boys are coming home.