I arrived at the office more than an hour earlier on my first day. The F train commute was the same one I did for school every day, giving me a weird sense of déjà vu.
The firm was located on the West 24th street between the 5th and 6th Avenues, in a pre-war Manhattan building, a classic example of the architectural style that defines this area - Chelsea meets Flatiron. Over my two years in grad school, I had gained encyclopedic knowledge on those streets.
Standing outside the office at 7:30 in the morning, I peered through the glass door, sizing up every visible inch of the dim studio, and couldn't help but wonder what the next four months would bring. Impatience crept up on me as I waited for someone to show up and open the door - a door that indeed led me to a new adventure.
Scott, one of the designers working here, came to my rescue and helped me gain entry.
Even though I had been picturing this second in my mind for a thousand times, stepping into the office of Chermayeff & Geismar & Haviv for the first time was a truly dazzling moment, evoking my memories of countless cinematic scenes. The lights were flickered on by Scott, and suddenly, I was living in one of those scenes. Here I was, standing inside the storied place where many of the world's most iconic designs were created.
There were a few desks, some artworks, and plants here and there. The large presentation wall was filled with push-in pins and prints from previous critiques. The walk-in cabinet was neatly arranged with all kinds of stationery imaginable. The small meeting room was primed to receive some of the world's most important executives. And the printer was strategically placed at the center of the studio, its importance being unquestionable.

The fame of the firm was evident, but the 1,000 sq ft office was thoroughly unpretentious. It was modest, yet elegant. @2018-07-28 New York City 🇺🇸
Every inch of the layout seemed to have been carefully evaluated, just like every pixel of the logos that were produced here. A little bigger and you are wasting space; a little smaller and you are feeling crowded. The arrangement of the office made economical sense, especially in Manhattan where rents are exorbitant. It makes the perfect argument that great designers are always masters of cost-effectiveness, which is usually reflected directly by the arrangement of their own workplaces.
Later, more people arrived. I sat alone in my cube, busy cluttering my empty iMac screen with random windows to convince my new colleagues that I knew what to do, until the phone rang.
I answered, and was greeted by a voice that was firm, slightly hoarse, and urgent - the unmistakable signs of someone who meant business. It was Sagi Haviv, the partner I was to work with for my internship, calling from his business trip. He welcomed me with a task that completely caught me off guard.
“You know how to use After Effects, right?” he asked.
"Uh, yeah, I have...uhmm..." I stuttered, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about.
"Ok great,” Sagi cut me off, “I want you to start animating all the logos we've created since 1957 using After Effects. This is a very special and important project. I will be back on Wednesday to check what you have."
“Sure, no problem.” I hung up the phone and stared blankly at my new work desk, as empty as my mind.
Of course, I had no fucking idea how to use After Effects. The closest I had ever gotten was making a Flash animation of a blue rectangle morphing into a red circle in a computer class back in third grade.
But I couldn't let Sagi know that, No way was I going to tell my boss on the first day that I didn't know how to do what I was asked to do - I might as well buy myself a one-way ticket to the unemployment line and start packing my bag.
My plan? Learn how to use it before Sagi figured out that I can't. Even though, to my defense, this VFX tool, a notoriously difficult one, was not seen anywhere in the job description, which, by the way, didn't even exist. But to the firm's defense, it doesn't need one - a person hired for Chermayeff & Geismar & Haviv should've been proficient in any skill of design. Or in my case, work my ass off until I am.
Not knowing how to use a design software was never a problem for me. Growing up, I found myself gifted in picking up any computer program unbelievably fast. I was a natural. In fact, I got an A+ in a 3D modeling course (one of the only two A+ I had in college) where I shocked the TA with a photo-realistic Sydney Opera House meticulously built and rendered in Rhino3D in just dozens of minutes while other students struggled for weeks. I was a superstar - girls with a cute Spanish accent from that class always came to ask me if I can help them with the boolean union. Está Bien.

I had all the logos printed out and pinned up on the walls surrounding my desk, like a hard-boiled detective hot on the trail of a murder case. I scrutinized each and every one of them like a clue, a piece of evidence in my quest to create the best animations. @2018-06-12 New York City 🇺🇸