I didn't go to Interactive Media class on Monday morning because I wanted to work on the agenda design (for the Letterkundig Museum) I'd have to present to the Typographic Design teacher later that day.
Even though I got myself a few extra hours, I wasn't content with the end-result. Yet, I headed to the Academy and presented what I had. Like I expected, the teacher wasn't completely satisfied with it either: he liked the calendar part, but not the literature part. I (and various other students) have been given opportunity to work on it some more: the final presentation is on the 9th of November.
After the presentations of the agenda designs, we discussed the new assignment—which is to design Amnesty International's magazine Wordt Vervolgd—and we discussed the fact that Grafisch Papier wants us—Graphic & Typographic Design students of the Royal Academy of Arts—to exposition some of our work in a slide-show presentation at the Papier Hier event: to make this happen, somebody needs to collect work by email, burn these files to a disc, and then send it in … I volunteered (not in the last place because I think it's cool to have work of fellow students).
Today, we had to present the infographic posters we've been working on for Graphic Design class. I've been having difficulty with this assignment: I didn't even go to class last week because I didn't have anything to show. This week, I did have something, but it's ugly as sin.
Before I went to class, I talked to one of my classmates on MSN Messenger. He said he wouldn't come to class because he wasn't feeling to well, but that he did have some nice stuff. He send two of his works to me, and I offered to print them out, and present them in class. His posters were significantly better than mine.
In class (where I arrived about an hour late, even though we didn't start untill 1P.M.), the posters I had brought along for my fellow student were received significantly better than my own. This was exactly what I expected, but it was tempting to to switch them around (…kidding). I feel I'm on the right—or at least a better—track with this now, though, and I have two more weeks to finish it.
After class, I headed to Bakkersplein, talked to some friends, and went home. There I played some excessively loud music, checked up on the PartyPeeps2000.com - Personal Page I set up last night, had dinner, had coffee, and headed to Bakkersplein again (this time in basketball gear).
I was feeling very energetic, my shots were dropping (pretty much all of them), and I jumped a lot higher than yesterday. There wasn't really any room for competition, as there were only two kids whose combined age was still three years short of mine, but I didn't mind: I can use some generic shooting and jumping pratice.
After some time, the increasing number of soccer players on the court started to get in the way a bit. Then the two oldest of them (who I still have quite a couple of years on) started to come up big, said we had to leave, and one of them gave my basketball a little kick. Said guy had a soccer ball in his hand which I then semi-gently kicked out of hands. So far so good: I get a lot of that sort of stuff there.
The two guys appearantly thought it shouldn't stop there though: they got all in my face, giving me tough looks and pointing burning cigarettes to my face. I was hardly impressed and said they should have asked nicely. They had some tough words and were manoeuvring in all sorts of threatening positions, but I looked the other way, affraid I might strike one at them.
I continued to play basketball, and they started to play soccer all over the place. When my ball got in front of the foot of one the two guys, he kicked it all the way over the fence, into the next street. I felt an adrenaline shot, and felt I was about to black out. I decided to look the other way, breath slowly, and go get my basketball. One of the basketball kids came up to me and asked whether I was going to punch them; I said I hope not.
I got my ball, focused a couple of seconds, and went back to the court. I continued to play basketball, making even more shots than before, and jumping higher than ever: thank you, Mr. Adrenaline.
Eventually the ball landed in front of the foot of one of the guys again. This time they didn't kick it away, but got in the face of the basketball kid that was playing. That got me really aggitated, and this time I decided to interfere.
The guy brought the arguement that there were more soccer players than basketball players. I said I agreed, but that's it's the fact that they didn't ask is the thing that was bothering me. He claimed he did; I reminded him that we were told to go away, and that my basketball was kicked. There was a brief silence, then he continued; Ok, so I ask nicely now.
I said; sure, we'll make some space.
Then I noticed about twenty people had gathered around me. They stared at me. Now what? Go start playing soccer, or I'll continue playing basketball,
I told the collective group. They scattered off, kicking a ball around for a good 20 seconds … tops, then disappeared.
Sigh. I continued to play basketball, a bit disappointed by the fact the adrenaline had worn off for the most part.