After enough years as a creative director, you accept two things. No one is entirely sure what you do. You are absolutely certain you are doing it wrong at least 30 percent of the time.
Christmas is strange. We cover our homes in lights, glitter, and tiny figurines, and somehow call it tradition. We made five mood boards to lean into that glorious chaos. Some are charming, some are chaotic.
If you look at the world’s most recognizable logos completely out of context, they’re almost hilariously unrelated to the companies behind them. A swoosh isn’t a shoe. A bitten apple isn’t a computer. A mermaid has never brewed a cup of coffee in her life.
In Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein, a frame doesn’t just exist. It feels like a painting that stood up, stretched, and walked onto the set.
I finished The Bear a few months ago, and I keep thinking about it in the most inconvenient places. It’s not a show that changes your life, but it does make you notice the chaos behind the craft and the obsession it takes to make something work.
Somewhere along the way, agencies decided that the more you suffer, the better the work. The late nights, the seventh round of “quick tweaks,” the group Slack chat that never sleeps, all of it celebrated like a badge of honor.
Every few years, designers panic like it’s the end of the world. People who think design means picking a PowerPoint template are writing think pieces about creativity’s demise. But the more I hear about the future of design, the more I think about its past.
It usually starts with silence. A designer hears the brief, nods, disappears, and reemerges four days later with something beautiful, emotional, cinematic, and completely wrong.
People don’t connect with brands because they follow a branding process™. No one falls in love with your award-winning framework, pixel-perfect layout, or round six of stakeholder-approved messaging.
The muse doesn’t wait by the phone. She’s not on standby for your 10 am brainstorm or your color-coded spreadsheet. She's a cruel mistress. She shows up when she wants, and only if you've been paying attention. Because inspiration doesn’t live in your calendar. It lives in your life.