Design is what I do professionally. Making things is what I do compulsively.

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After more than two decades working across design, branding, art direction, UX, marketing, and storytelling, I’ve learned that the medium matters a lot less to me than the idea. I like figuring out what something wants to say, how it should make someone feel, and then finding the most interesting way to get it there.

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My personal design style is eclectic. I pull inspiration from different artistic periods, unexpected places, and whatever currently has my attention, mixing old and new to create work that feels modern without becoming disposable.

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When I’m designing for someone else, though, my personal style takes a back seat. Good creative direction isn’t about making every brand look like me. It’s about understanding what makes that brand distinctly itself—its voice, audience, personality, purpose, and visual language—and building from there. The best work should feel unmistakably like the company it belongs to.

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That same instinct eventually followed me back into songwriting. I’m an ASCAP songwriter working primarily in country and Americana, writing songs rooted in memories, humor, loss, questionable decisions, and the strange little details that make a story feel true. Music has become another extension of what I’ve always loved about design: taking something complicated and human and turning it into something people can feel.

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I’m also deeply curious about emerging technology and AI—not as a replacement for creative thinking, but as another tool for pushing ideas somewhere they couldn’t have gone before. Technology can accelerate the process, but taste, judgment, curiosity, and storytelling still have to come from somewhere.

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I’ve always believed a little weirdness is useful if not essential.

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Especially because the world itself has stopped making much sense.