Splash/ A Design Philosophy Š2011 Matthew Wizinsky
SPLASH SPLASH 01
Splash
When I am in the water, I cheat gravity. I am alone, buoyant, supported by the world. Swimming, I dance with the force of nature hearing only the sound of my own body impacting the water, my heartbeat, the rhythm of my breathing. The lap lanes are marked: Beginner, Intermediate, and Advanced. I never know where I belong. Whose standards? Who’s judging? So, I just take whatever lane is open. Every time I jump in the water, I feel nervous as though it’s my first time. I might forget what to do, how to stay afloat, how to breathe properly. When I was younger, I only worried about speed. Erratic movements, lots of splashing about, and kicking wildly. Now, I focus on endurance and form. Form is most critical when you are moving slowly. Every nuanced motion, every twist of the arm, the shape of the hand, the extension of the legs— you can glide effortlessly or create your own resistance. I can’t see the other swimmers while I’m doing laps, so I assume they can’t see me. Not until we’re at the end of the lanes—but, from there, we can only measure the results, not the effort or the specific motions that got us here.
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However, I always sense the lifeguards. Perched above with a view of the whole pool, they see my every stroke. They know when I stop mid-lane for air or swallowed some water. They know if I pause between laps, either legitimately adjusting my goggles or simply biding time to catch my breath.
I assume they’re expert swimmers, so their invisible stares carry judgment. I swim because I love it. Every visit to the pool is a struggle—a struggle against sinking, against drowning. In hindsight, each visit was a success. I remember it as much smoother than it feels during the act. Later, I’m convinced that I improved my skill. If not, at least I got some exercise. I don’t ever plan on swimming competitively. This is mine. I don’t intend to let it be swallowed up by the goals and standards of others. But… maybe one day, it will serve a noble purpose. Maybe I’ll save a drowning child at the public pool. Or maybe I’ll be boating with my wife; we’ll capsize, and I’ll swim her to shore to save her life. Both are unlikely, but it’s always good to dream. Most importantly, swimming is introspective. Closing out the dry world, I am forced to pay strict attention to myself. In the water, all I see is the glimmer of sunshine frolicking on the lane marker, quick glimpses of the water’s surface as I take a breath, my goal—the end of the lane approaching. And then, it’s just me. Dancing with nature, struggling to stay afloat, to move forward. The rhythm of my breathing. My heartbeat. My own splash.
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m
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seeing thinking
making
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The Shape of the Universe
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M 12
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HERE
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PAST
FUTURE
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THERE
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Slither, step, and stand. Scrape and flame, clatter and clang. Signs are spoke. Scribbled and stroked. Think with your eyes and see with your mind. All we know are the shadows on the wall. They dance to a choreographed illumination that is ours to behold. Those unlikely characters reflect our own lives, and we re-model the universe based on the view through our narrow lens. Through surface, structure, and depth, we find a purpose; we see a clear and pure representation of the world. We share these stories. Sometimes we agree, and sometimes we don’t. This distinction is identity, and it creates OUR culture. Communication is a social act with an agenda. Effectively, it is a trigger firing response: a provocation, denunciation of accepted wisdom, a communal tide toward action, refutation, dialogue, debate, maybe a laugh. It is never innocent. Every image, word, and action is laden with innumerable potential—a sum either infinite or absolute zero. This vast multiplicity of latent meanings waits to be ignited, to be put on stage to dance. Their assembly is the designer’s task and becomes the designer’s responsibility. Meaning is exactly whatever happens on reception. The designer builds the house and invites you in.
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The design act is acrobatic: tumbling and twirling, balance is only achieved through constantly looking forward. The laborious experimentation, exploration of the unknown, riffing on endless melodies and shifting rhythms… this is where
Splash
creation happens. The possibilities are endless, but the results are a finite decision, always born in the spirit of the here and now. 1 + 1 = ___. Filling this blank with the most engaging possibility is the designer’s ultimate challenge and reward. The designer is a performer whose assertions and actions are put on display. The crowd may gasp or groan. Ridicule the clown or adore the magician among us. Regardless, the designer rattles the air we breathe. By accelerating narratives, an approximation of the future is constructed. Brash or eloquent, scientific or absurd—we can swallow it or spit it out, but we’re always richer for the opportunity to decide. Magic is real—as real as anything else (go ahead and prove me wrong). Or suspend disbelief for one minute and see the unseen, think outside yourself, maybe re-invent yourself. Just like every other creative act, design is either magic or bullshit. Either way, it makes a splash.
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IN CA EMERGENCY UNCERTAINT OR STASIS
SE OF / LEISURE / Y/