After Graduating that time.

At the time of my graduation in 1969, I know now that I was unprepared to work as a designer. I had no non graphical communication skills. I avoided the telephone after some big bills on the family line. The net was not yet a dream though the DARPA net went in about 1960. That was military only. Computers were mainframes. I had some money. I hung in the city for about six weeks helping classmates do portfolio work. I was unable to do that for myself. As that spun down, I locked my door walked down to the Lincoln tunnel and stuck out my thumb. A memorable trip to California the summer after the summer of love. I ended up in the Bay Area. Had an adventure with the street people of Oakland.
Slept on a dorm floor in Berkly. The U.C. Berkly Library held me for a day. I thumbed north. Hot, Dry, Lonely. Turned west and landed in the bed of I think the American river with a manic veggie in a van. Rousted at 2:00 am. Stunned by fatigue, I thumbed north on US1. I saw little. I was mostly dozing. No redwoods that trip. I kept getting rides from cruising gays and other adventurers. I spent a few days at the U. of Oregon, got turned back at the BC border and headed east. I wasn't looking hard but the work I found was drug dealing and petty cons. Nothing I wanted to get involved with. Manufacturing seemed to be shutting down everywhere. I got stranded in the scab lands of central Oregon. A stunned quick trip through the mountains. Standing and sleeping. I walked a few hours by the Green. More mountains in the dark. I crossed into Canada from Minnesota and picked up the Transcanada through Sudbeury. Moonscape with drifting miners. The nickle pits were closing. I zipped through French Canada. Paused at St John New Brunswick to watch the tide in Fundy. The bore came up the river. I pushed on to Halifax. More sleaze. I found a couple of classmates who had gotten jobs at N S C A D. They found a couple of guys who were willing to try founding an office. I flew south and got some cash and kit. I must have looked in at Parsons. I don't remember. Passed on my student apartment and sank into despair. No income. No contacts. Canada is foreign. I survived the winter on dreams. I came home for a visit and spent an hour with Ini. I had nothing positive. I visited Parsons. Antiwar and Green were taking over. I was glad to have missed drop city in my loop. I went back to Canada to try some more. Things just got worse. Beer did not help but pub food was cheap. I moved my pad again. I had been getting robbed. I shared a former school house on the beach that winter. No traffic, no food store, no phone, no radio. I quit in the early spring and traveled south. The ferry from Yarmouth to Bar Harbor. was a joy. I had dozed in the police station waiting for the boat. Boston and my MIT brother. Home.
Visited Ini when I could move. They told me I must move on. I moved on.
I went back to Parsons to see if I could find a way to earn a living. Parsons had been sold to The New School For Social Research. The industrial design department had been ordered closed. All that remained was a trash out and a wind down. Some of us moved William Katavolos and his papers to a studio loft on fourteenth street. I was working.
No income but satisfying work. I Wanted a base in the city. I found a loft on Canal and Broadway and split it with Nancy. Nancy is known to be a diagnosed schizophrenic. She is also the best free hand draftsman I know of. We had a wonderful month cleaning, painting and refinishing the floor. I built an internal structure to hide the beds and walk in closet. No A.I.R. lease. It also provided a corner for the kitchen. One of the two water closets became a shower. It was almost comfortable. The traffic noise was always intense. The light was perfect. The view, stunning. I did not own a camera that worked. My next photographs were twelve years in the future.

It goes on.