Here is the final magazine in printed form.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Magazine Design Spreads
This spread appears on the inside of the cover.
These pages were left blank for advertising.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Daily Coffee at Ken's - Project 1 Narrative
8:00 am - Peak out the balcony to see the wet, puddle laden streets below. Sleepily search for the green polka-dot galoshes and pull them on over my favorite pair of smartwool socks. Walk down the stairs and quickly grab the matching green umbrella.
8:05 am - My feet feel heavy underneath me as I reach for the elevator button. An eternity passes as the clunk and whir of the steel box grows near.
8:06 am - I pass through the steel gate and feel like a prisoner trapped in my own life. Silence. I open the door and am released from my own thoughts.
8:07 am - Whiff ... the discordant smells coming from the bins leading to the exit make me keenly aware of my senses.
8:08 am - Ahh, into the fresh, damp air ... I feel renewed. The cars and people rush by ... I step slowly 1 .. 2 .. 1 .. 2 .. 1 .. 2 .. watch the crack, my mom needs her back. Splash!
8:09 am - Do the sleeping trees, the Egyptian mummies, and Mr. Orange Fire Hydrant yearn to be awake? Shhh ... I pick up my step careful not to disturb them in their slumber.
8:10 am - Across Abbey Road ... I imagine there are four of me ... Mr. Magritte surely could find inspiration .... Oh, here comes the Sun ... nevermind, he was just kidding.
8:13 am - At the crossroads I stand, do I take the road less traveled? The kind white man makes the decision easy.
8:14 am - Ken's is not too far now ... I pass the creative cutters and wonder why I'm not bolder, braver ... it's only hair!
8:15 am - Past the beautiful breads and through the door into another place and time, one more provincial, time stands still, the neighbors smile ... a cafe ole please ... sugar, cinnamon, and stir ... yes, to stay ... for awhile.
8:05 am - My feet feel heavy underneath me as I reach for the elevator button. An eternity passes as the clunk and whir of the steel box grows near.
8:06 am - I pass through the steel gate and feel like a prisoner trapped in my own life. Silence. I open the door and am released from my own thoughts.
8:07 am - Whiff ... the discordant smells coming from the bins leading to the exit make me keenly aware of my senses.
8:08 am - Ahh, into the fresh, damp air ... I feel renewed. The cars and people rush by ... I step slowly 1 .. 2 .. 1 .. 2 .. 1 .. 2 .. watch the crack, my mom needs her back. Splash!
8:09 am - Do the sleeping trees, the Egyptian mummies, and Mr. Orange Fire Hydrant yearn to be awake? Shhh ... I pick up my step careful not to disturb them in their slumber.
8:10 am - Across Abbey Road ... I imagine there are four of me ... Mr. Magritte surely could find inspiration .... Oh, here comes the Sun ... nevermind, he was just kidding.
8:13 am - At the crossroads I stand, do I take the road less traveled? The kind white man makes the decision easy.
8:14 am - Ken's is not too far now ... I pass the creative cutters and wonder why I'm not bolder, braver ... it's only hair!
8:15 am - Past the beautiful breads and through the door into another place and time, one more provincial, time stands still, the neighbors smile ... a cafe ole please ... sugar, cinnamon, and stir ... yes, to stay ... for awhile.
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