Tuesday, 30 June 2015

The Many Faces of Public Transportation (GRC-3)

In London, the public transportation symbol can be seen virtually anywhere, if you train your eye to look for it.  The symbol of a circle with a horizontal line is not only displayed at tube, bike, and bus stations, but is also creatively implemented throughout other aspects of London's visual graphics.  On countless advertisements across the city, this iconic symbol is used to speak simply but clearly to those who take advantage of public transport.  In the first example shown below, the symbol is used to promote twitter as a means of getting updates about travel alerts and notifications across the large city.

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This second example below portrays the symbol as a door knocker, playing on the advertisement's claim of being able to use the transportation service "without leaving home". (Please excuse the poor quality of the photo- I was in a moving bus when I snapped the shot... I couldn't let this perfect example pass me by!)

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This final example is praising the recent changes made to the tube station "Embankment".  Here, the transportation symbol is turned into a smiley face, showing the simple joy that people can experience when utilizing the newly improved underground stop.


Saturday, 27 June 2015

My Corner of Heaven on Earth

Do you have that perfect place in your mind that you escape to when Life holds you a bit too tightly?  You know, that place where you can just breathe and it seems nothing bad or stressful could ever exist?  That place that releases your soul from the grip of the ups and downs, the traffic of the roads, and the traffic of your mind?

Well, I have that place.  And in all my hours of worry and strife, I thought that place was just a mental glimpse of Heaven- a small picture existing only in my mind of what I could only hope for, but never see with these eyes.  That is, until today...

I found that place of mine.  It actually exists.  It's really here.  It's Winchester.



Just a one and a half hour long bus ride southeast from London, I was physically in My Place, my perfect glimpse of Heaven.  No, I was IN Heaven.  Everywhere I looked, I couldn't find a bad sight to see.  The streets were lined with cozy, flower covered English brick town houses on cobblestone roads.  The bakeries made the best tasting coffee cakes and chocolate croissants that ever graced my tongue.  And the river- oh, the river!  It gushed and whispered down the most perfect and quaint pathway that was lined with rose gardens and old brick cottages.  The trail led to old Medieval palace ruins that you could roam.  Stand on the actual site of ancient royal celebrations and weddings.  Look up at the crumbling brick walls and imagine who else stood there- that exact spot- hundreds and hundreds of years ago and imagine what they saw...



People live there, you know.  Real, live, actual people live in My Place, my perfect Heaven, that I thought was only in my mind.  My heart couldn't understand why that wasn't my reality.  "This is where I belong", my soul seemed to whisper to me over and over again as I walked those perfect trails and took in those perfect sights.  Then why didn't I live there?  Why wasn't that the place I could call home, and not fantasy?  Why was my life thousands of miles away in the middle of worries and stress?  Don't get me wrong, I love my home- that's where my family and everything important to me exists.  But why couldn't all that exist here, in Winchester, where there seemed to be no place for those worries and stress?


My heart ached within me.  It told me to come here.  To go, leave my home.  To come live my life serene.  To give up all of what society tells me is most important- money, status, the American Dream- and to live and dwell in what is truly of value.  And yet... my mind wondered... is it in Winchester that I truly belong?  Or is Winchester simply the physical representation an unspoken, undescribed Place that my soul desires to dwell?  Surely I would still not be truly free from the grips of Life, even in Winchester.  I know that my reality really is where it's supposed to be.

But maybe... maybe my every day mental dwelling doesn't have to be dependent on my every day physical dwelling.  It's not all or nothing.  My choices aren't simply, one: continue to incoherently live the cluttered, busy, disconnected American life, or two: leave all I have, all I know behind and live life as if I were dancing to the beat of an island drum with beads in my hair.

No.

I have a choice, no matter where I am, to be free.

Sometimes we can't have a say in what life brings us.  No matter how much we wish we could, some things simply aren't changeable by our power alone.  But other things are.  I might not be able to move anywhere in the world, get any job I so desire, or have those perfect relationships I've always dreamed of.  But I can choose to celebrate life right where I'm at.  When everyone else is in a trance of their preoccupations of Life, I can choose to free my perspective and not be chained by all that busyness.  Ultimately, I am the one who decides what I allow to influence my mind and my being.  Is it going to be the never-ending web of empty, materialistic worldly goals and promises?  Or is it going to be the freedom of the Spirit dwelling not only in my soul, but in my mind, giving me the eyes to see the blissful nature of whatever life I live?

Life is good, because God created it.  So for once, why don't we try to take full advantage of the potential He's offering?

Even though Winchester, My Place, might not be my physical reality, I can take comfort in this one thing: it really exists.  Maybe Heaven isn't as far away as we think...



Thursday, 25 June 2015

Propaganda Design (GRC-2)

One of the activities that we did during the first week of classes was going to the Imperial War Museum of London to observe the exhibit for the first World War.  Through this exhibit, there were several examples of various propaganda used in Britain at that time, and the design of these signs are very interesting.  A few of them are shown below.

 
 

As you can see, in the front and center of each of these posters is a service man who is portrayed as being very honorable and strong.  This choice of design causes a strong sense of masculinity and power being given to all those who help fight in the war.  In two of these posters, the word "you" can be seen clearly and loudly, along with a general's finger being pointed at the reader.  This ingenious choice of design causes the reader to not have a choice in being involved in the war one way or another.  The layout of these propaganda signs strongly encourages, even commands citizens to participate in the war efforts.

Restaurant and Pub signs (GRC 377-1)

The countless pubs and restaurants around Kensington and the broader parts of London all have their own unique design and font for their signs.  I've noticed that many of them incorporate multiple styles of font to catch the eye and to create an aesthetically engaging logo.  However, I have not been able to find any logo that uses more than two or three different fonts.  In keeping this simplicity, the logos are kept from being too noisy and are left with just the right amount of contrast.



This first photo shows the logo of an Italian restaurant in Piccadilly Circus (who's food is a bit overpriced for its taste if you ask me).  Their eye-catching logo employs a sans serif font and large text size for the name of their restaurant "Jamie's", followed by what looks to be an oldstyle font in all caps declaring "Italian".  A further description of their business is then depicted further down in a modern font, which can be seen from the vertical stress of the "o" and the right angle of the serifs.



This second photo shows two different logos right next to each other- one employing two separate fonts, and the second only including one.  The "Caffe Nero" logo uses a different font for their name and a short description of their business, whereas the "AZ Electrical Hardware" only uses one type of font next to its "AZ" logo.  The Caffe Nero design, although still simple, is more engaging than the hardware store sign, as the two different fonts helps create some interesting contrast.



This last photo shows the simple, yet effective design of a pub's sign.  The use of two different fonts and the placement of the words throughout a circular shape creates a very clear and attractive arrangement.

My first day in London

As I stretched my neck to peek at the English countryside from a window on the plane, I couldn't help but let a smile push through my sleep-deprived, drooping face.  A little boy in the seat across from me shouted with glee at his little brother, "Look! Wake up David!! We're in London! Look Dad! We're in London! We're in London!"  My smile grew even wider as I secretly wished it was socially acceptable for me to shout in the same manner.  My body was tired, but my heart was full.  I was about to experience another world- a dream I had thought would never come true.

Stepped off the plane.  Walked towards the baggage claim.  Reality hit.

The masses of people in line for Customs made me want to scream... then cry.  And if you know me at all, when I'm massively sleep deprived I sometimes do just that.  However, luckily for me, I kept my cool (at least my memory tells me I did) and my frizzy, makeup-smeared, blood shot-eyed self was somehow allowed into their beautiful country.

Passed customs.  Check.  Got my baggage.  Check.  Directions to my housing facility? Uhhhh....

Well, at least my travel buddy Alayna and I knew the general direction in which we had to go.  So we followed the mass of people to the tube station, got in line to buy a ticket to our stop, and somehow blubbered and stuttered some words that got us tickets and the correct direction to go.  We got on the tube, took in our first sights of London during the ride, and were spit out on the street with cars and people, bikes and scooters, horns honking, and children crying.  And we just stared at each other.

We looked at a map to try to get our bearings.  Useless.  A nice old lady tried to give us directions..."Ah! Queen's gate, you say?  Well what you need to do is take a right turn right up here, then go down a bit and until you reach the park... well, now that I think of it Queen's gate is quite long, so perhaps you want to go straight a bit longer before turning right.   But either way its just right up there down this street! Can't miss it!"  Poor Alayna and I just started walking.  And walking, And walking.....  Nothing looked right.  Nothing made sense.  And out bags were getting heavier by the second.  After turning around about five times, asking three other people for directions, having two wheels on my luggage break off,  and shedding of several tears (mine, of course), we finally made it to check in.  After being given our keys and making it to our rooms, I finally had time to breathe.  I made it.  I was in London.  I was safe.  And it was beautiful.

After unpacking, orientation with the Advisors, and some showering, we made it out to the pub for some much needed food- and my first official alcoholic drink.  Perhaps it was the careful mixture of frutiness and sweetness creatively and artistically combined in the cider, or (to be more realistic), simply my utter exhaustion- either way, I thoroughly enjoyed a refreshing rekorderlig with classic fish and chips and a side of mushed peas for dinner.  Very English.

After a quick stop at the grocery store for breakfast foods, I was brainless, senseless, and utterly dead.  Needless to say, I slept darn well that first night in London.