YSunday, June 18, 2006
Design School
Once upon a time, in a far away place, miles from here, I remember myself sitting on a mountain top pondering about my future and about where all of this is going to.
I had to find something to do with my time.
It was my sister’s words that echoed in my head, making me serious about starting with my higher-education.
Maybe a nice Design School in Israel.
A few years ago, when my sister and I moved in together, we rented a dump somewhere in Tel-Aviv.
A week before we moved there I called up my friend and asked him to come and help me.
We started to work on the walls.
Applying some plaster, picking out nails and coloring the wall.
I designed the whole place by myself.
After a long week and buckets of sweat it was complete.
An oasis in the middle of the big city, an asylum for the soul.
“You have to go to learn how to perfect your work” she said.
“You should enroll yourself into a Design School”.
I didn't know where exactly to go in order to find more information, so I decided to log on to the internet.
I googled up “Design School” and clicked the “search” button.
About 60,000 results came up on the search.
The first website I clicked on was of “The Royal British Design School”.
They were placed somewhere in england and I wanted something closer to home.
I turned back and went into the “Israeli Design School” a simple title for a great place.
I checked some other places out, and some other things I wanted to learn, but in the end I decided to go ahead and get me some education and some peace of mind.
Today, 3 years after I graduated, with the Design School degree up on my wall, I can relax in my office, on the 42nd floor of the Azrieli building, doing what I love to do, and getting paid for it.
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