Please excuse the mess while I build (rebuild?) my journal.

I was excited to learn that a major element of this class is keeping a design journal. Not so much because I love sharing inspiration but because I was already keeping one and considered myself a step ahead. Believe me when I say I needed to be a step ahead because shortly before class started I found my life turning into a spanish soap opera and I needed all the breaks I could get.

My trusty little phone kept all my important and frivolous information safe inside a sim card for me. I was especially proud of the photos of Grand Central Station, the NYC subway, the Guggenheim, my visit to the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum and my critique of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. That little Blackjack II also stored photos of the WTC site from ground view and from far above at the Millennium Hilton. The site was surrounded by media and propaganda assuring folks that they were hard at work on the site. The message stretched for blocks, with slogans and URLs to visit to read more about how much they are doing to the giant hole in the heart of the Financial District. Truly interesting stuff.

And there was the more personal media too. The frivolous-notes on wines I kept as I discovered new ones that I liked;the joyful-pictures of my nieces' baptism and video of her playing happily with her grandfather; and the sad-photos of my father's grave nestled beside the resting places of his brothers and so many other family members I didn't know I had lost until I gazed upon the warm, grey stones with their names etched matter-of-factly upon them.

The phone documented my journey, my coming home, my search for family, for justice for my father and all the little things in between that I saw, felt and heard.


It was all too much for me as I walked in the rain from the towering Wall Street office of my attorney. I was wishing it wasn't so hard to get a cab when it rains in the city when a shiny yellow beacon of hope appeared. I headed back to the garage where my car was waiting for me to take it back to Indiana.

Times Square. How much more New Media can you be? I fished for my trusty phone to take a few last pictures, despite the rain and how poorly dressed for it I was, I stood in the middle of Times Square and looked up at the rainbow of flashing lights and marketing, marketing, marketing, only to find myself empty handed and the cab long gone, with my trusty phone who was always there for me on my journey but was now left to journey on its own.