It’s been over three and half years since I left Philadelphia to take part in a graduate program at the Sandberg Instituut in Amsterdam. In unexpected ways, returning to school during my late 30’s played an integral part in my development as a designer and human.
What can I say about the Gladiator? He was scrappy and sinewy, about 40 years old. He wore his hair cropped short, with a small bald patch on the back of his head and a widow’s peak. He had hawkish eyes and a mouth full of gold teeth when he smiled.
On the newly constructed buildings that line Moscow’s wide avenues, there was a freshly painted mural recreating the historic photograph of Russian soldiers raising the Soviet flag over the Reichstag in Berlin.
One of the men from the group on the steps approached the group waiting for the bus. He wore a dark brown leather Avirex jacket and Air Maxs, both surprisingly in good shape despite his financial situation.
We got on at City Hall station. I got off at Cecil B. around 8pm on Wednesday. The break dancing family was talking to me but you and I kept exchanging glances.
A few weeks ago a friend asked me for advice about running a freelance business. For years she had run large non-profit organisations, published books of her research and writing, and written op-ed’s for major newspapers like the New York Times. But now it was time for a change, time to go independent.
Each morning, James would make juice for himself. After hearing an ad for the device during a podcast, he decided to buy it on a whim. He liked waking up and seeing its polished aluminium body waiting on the kitchen countertop. The device resembled an artillery shell or an oversized bullet.