Game?

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Aaah, to be at play. To forget. To be honest – for play, reckons Mr Blobz, is a place where we are really ourselves, as we have forgotten to be.

Play is such a blissful state of being – a mindset, a heartset. A tennis set! A cherished state we enter with the forgotten passport of childhood, that we inhabit when we’re free of the muck of daily life, the mood-sediment and undertow of our emotional tides… Yet how often we don’t even think to play, or refuse the idea, feeling like we simply can’t: or worse, that play is stupid, childish, retrogressive.

How good to see these dominoes plastered on the wall in some arbitrary Observatory back street.

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They have such texture. While Mr Blobz enjoys the odd spot of online tennis, he prefers the thwock of a tennis ball on the backside in a game of stingers, or the joy of throwing a stone into a bucket. The simpler, the better.
So come and play, where we can leave things behind, where a ball or a card or a bow and arrow sing you back to yourself. Now it’s your turn.

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