Note 001

My college graphics tutor shared a film with us once called The Dark Side of the Lens, about an ocean photographer talking about his work. The film had this poetic narration and beautiful cinematography all the way through, but one line has stuck with me ever since. He described his role as capturing “subtle glimpses of magic others pass by.”

I can still remember the golden shimmers across the ocean as he said it.

I think the idea of framing something for someone else to see, to offer them a perspective they might not otherwise have noticed, is a huge part of the thrill of this job for me. To create something that makes my clients feel seen, while helping their audience see their vision too.

I think that’s what all creatives are, really: translators of feelings into visual language.

Looking back, that film was a big inspiration for how I think about visual storytelling. It evoked emotion, celebrated craft and, most importantly, showed the value of human perspective. Something I feel is becoming increasingly important.

Lately, I’ve found myself leaning more and more into the references and processes that made me fall in love with design in the first place. Linocutting, collage, cyanotype, film photography. Brands that were around when I was at school. Things with texture, imperfection and evidence of the person who made them.

Perhaps because I think we’re searching for something that we’re beginning to lose in a world of computer-generated everything: soul.

And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’re seeing a pull back towards the tangible. People embroidering over their photodumps. Brands creating IRL communities rather than just online ones. Y2K brands making comebacks. A renewed appreciation for things that feel personal, physical and human.

AI is an incredible tool, and I’m excited by what it can do. But a prompt can only tell it so much.

You can ask it to create you a logo, sure. But building something with meaning requires something else. Context, taste, experience, emotion. The ability to notice the things that aren’t immediately obvious.

The subtle glimpses of magic others might pass by.

And maybe that’s what I’m really trying to preserve in my work: the human perspective