London/csm

[asecondlanguage]

Hi I'll be studying abroad at CSM in the fall, and I was wondering how the homework load was? did you have a lot of time to travel during the term?

Hi!

I suppose it all depends on what you're studying. I can only speak for the graphic design program but we only met with our class once a week at CSM to discuss progress on biweekly projects. The university focuses a lot on independent working so yo can spend as much or as little time on a brief as you wish. I spent quite a bit of time on my projects but I did get to travel as well (to Amsterdam and Barcelona) so it is definitely possible to manage your workload with travelling. 

[asecondlanguage]

Every good thing must come to some sort of end. But, I am excited to see what I do next, and everything that follows.

Follow my other blog, After Thoughts to see my next move after London, and every subsequent after thought, for that matter.

[asecondlanguage]

How I spent my final hours in London.

After finishing the bulk of my packing, I decided to take one last walk around Shoreditch.

I arrived at a cafe on Hoxton Street, a road that became a familiar and resourceful strip throughout my trip. There, I managed to position myself outside with a cappuccino, absorbing the beauty of the day. It was a wonderful day. The weather, the air, it was perfect. I wanted to savor every last bit of this moment. How could I bring this back with me? How can I remember?

The man who served me my coffee came over and offered me the newspaper. I took it, (without much intention of reading it) and then I realized how a newspaper is one of the most accurate records of time. Containing the date, current events, news, weather, etc. It thoroughly documents every single day. And, given the clear skies and warm air, what more descriptive record of today could I encounter than the weather section of London's newspaper. So, I quickly removed it, and returned to my room in Will Wyatt where I then proceded to cover my sketchbook with it.

When I bought this sketchbook, I bought it for the inner pages, but it had a horrible red cover so I immediately re-covered it with brown kraft paper, then with book board. Now, it has the weather section of London's newspaper from Monday, 19 March 2012, the day I left London. I like this idea of periodically re-covering my sketchbook. The word 'recover' essentially means to restore, refurbish, make better. I know a newspaper is not exactly the most practical cover material and that eventually, it will begin to degrade. So, when or if I encounter other materials that expressively describe a period of time, or state of mind, I will simply cover my sketchbook with it. Over time, I anticipate this wonderful accumulation of covers, materials, memories, that will illuminate the contents more completely and appropriately than any single predetermined book cover.

[ucdesignuk2012]

[asecondlanguage]

The first. The best.

[asecondlanguage]

A Journal Entry

It is 16:07 in the United Kingdom and at this very moment, I am sitting in London Heathrow International Airport awaiting my flight back to the United States. My original return flight took off at 16:00 today and no, I am not on it. I wish I could say it is because in the final hour I discarded my inhibitions and made this admirable, serendipitous decision to remain in London until further notice. Unfortuantely, that is not quite the case. I am here in Terminal 3, killing time because I missed my flight by a mere, yet crucial five minutes and had to pay $272.00 to switch to the next flight (apparently responsibility is not what I took away from my semester abroad). While I am bitter about the fee I had to pay to get a new flight and the time I feel like I have wasted, I am most troubled by the fact that I nearly missed my flight on purpose in order to extend my stay. Now, if I were to start believing in the existence of  destiny, fate, or any of that nonsense, I might have this looming thought that tells me I should not be returning at all and I should have, in fact, listened to my first instincts.

As I am sitting here in the terminal’s food court, the most unglamourous of places, I am fighting to push away these regretful, ‘what-if’ thoughts because frankly, my time in London was anything but regretful.  Instead, I am going to take it as an opportunity to continue reflecting on the past three months before I officially depart for the United States.  I am hesitant to think this present, stressful situation is irrelevant to my journey in any way.

Leaving London and returning to my ‘regular’ life, one that, on the surface, appears to be just like that of every other college student, is a difficult thing to swallow. But, as I observe the countless number of people passing through this terminal, I realize that nothing in this life is truly permanent, neither the good nor the bad. Time passes, oftentimes inconceivably fast and sometimes painfully slow but, within this physical timeline of life, the undulations, the inconsistencies, those are the things that can be held responsible for the collective intrigue. Maybe every experience is just an airport terminal, a segue to the next block of time, that, if allowed, can dictate the shape of the remainder of our individual timelines.

I will now return back to my "home" in Connecticut, somewhat anxious, but aware that it is only temporary. It is what I do, how I think, while I am back at home that will be the ultimate factor in determining where I will go next. And that, that unresolved facet of my future, is entirely more important and exciting than stability.

[asecondlanguage]

It is the moments like this, embedded in the streets of London, that give the city its uniqueness and its wonder. Amidst the pavement, the rush, the pessimism, it is necessary to look for the details. London's breathtaking beauty is not because it has the most massive skyscrapers or the most expensive architecture but the true appreciation for this city is derived from its ability to overwhelm its visitors through the features that are underwhelming in scale but stunning in design.

[asecondlanguage]

Found in a bar in King's Cross...

What does a frame become when the picture is missing?

Well, assuming there was never a picture in the center, and that the owner intends on keeping its core vacant, the frame itself no longer retains its function as a supportive, decorative addition to an artwork. The frame, systematically hung on the wall, purposefully lit in an otherwise dim setting, is now the artwork. It does not serve to better focus the viewer's attention on anything other than its own beauty. So then, if the frame is self-transformed into a piece of art, what is its new frame. I guess it is just the next closest border, the wall. And the wall's frame is the room; the room's frame is the building; the building's, the street, and the street's frame is London ( and so on and so on).

Maybe I am searching too hard for deeper meaning in a simple concept but I cannot help but think about a pictureless frame as a comment on context. Art that is hung in museums, houses, restaurants, etc. are typically contained in some sort of frame. Though the majority of people don't stop to analyze the frame, that seemingly minor element was considered by the artist. Everything about the location of an artwork, for that matter, was taken into consideration. I've come to realize that half the battle, in art and design, is its presentation and its context. Juxtaposition, as well as integration, to the environment, makes or breaks the piece itself. To communicate and function entirely in the way it was intended, a design must perfectly complement its surroundings and it must do so in the most brilliant, yet understated fashion.

[asecondlanguage]

How on earth have I neglected Borough market for so long

[asecondlanguage]

Wolff Olins Studio Visit

Even their light switch panel used color effectively.

One day I hope to integrate color into my work as boldly and confidently as Wolff Olins.

[asecondlanguage]

Design in art, is a recognition of the relation between various things, various elements in the creative flux. You can't invent a design. You recognize it, in the fourth dimension. That is, with your blood and your bones, as well as with your eyes.

D.H. Lawrence

[asecondlanguage]

Studio visit to see Lucienne Roberts

It's always refreshing to see a persistent appreciation for traditional techniques

[asecondlanguage]

Stumbled upon this title when book-browsing.

What a depressing coincidence..

[asecondlanguage]

Margaritas from Wahaca:

Well-deserved rewards for handing in our final portfolios

[asecondlanguage]

Crave knowledge.

[asecondlanguage]

"Sketching is like haiku; with a few lines you can represent grand ideas."

-Ayse Birsel

[asecondlanguage]

I knew those paint samples would come in handy eventually...

I love discovering new uses of old materials

[asecondlanguage]

My 'Walking' Tour of the London Underground Railway. 

My tour takes the user through the history of the tube as it explores each individual line in the order of which it was created. The form, alluding to a spool of thread and merged with the size and shape of an Oyster Card, is expressive of journey. A spool of thread, an old-fashioned tool for sewing is a sort of time travel in itself. Each thread, fine and fragile, has knots which indicate the number of stops the traveler must ride until transferring to the next line in sequential order. The length of the thread is relative to the amount of time between stops as well as the entire duration of the line. The colors, of course, correspond to the color of each line.

In considering the interaction between user and tour, the act of unwinding a spool of thread is, sometimes, tedious, much like the frustration that can be associated with riding the underground. The meticulous task of searching for tiny knots in a piece of thread requires even more added patience, a value that seasoned tube travelers can understand. If the tourist wishes to return to the starting destination, he or she must be careful not to "tangle" the thread. In this brief I tried to communicate the values associated with that of the iconic London transport, which remind citizens to slow down and resist quick aggravation.