A juicy peach.

It’s almost been a month since I attended Creative South, but I’m still riding high. It was my first time attending this conference and my first time in the state of Georgia. After navigating canceled flights, epic thunderstorms, and rental car fiascos, I finally had my feet on the ground and was ready to get my brain melted. Since I’m late to the party and several others have already shared detailed insights, I’ll share two key nuggets from this juicy peach.

Small conferences are king.
I met Creative South’s Mike Jones at Lincoln Design’s Into the Woods conference two years ago, and since then, I’ve had plans of visiting the Peach State. I met so many people at Into the Woods, which is pretty damn Impressive, especially for a group of creative introverts like myself. I’ve been to some of the bigger design conferences in the past, and though they have value in their own right, I always walked away with few meaningful connections. This was not the case at Creative South. I shook hands with nearly all of the speakers there—something unthinkable at some larger conferences. Don’t get me wrong, learning software tips or watching titans of design walk through famous projects you’ve already seen can be cool, but the real reason I go to conferences is to hear the stories you don’t get online. The stuff you can’t get from an interview or in a book. The good shit. Because of this, several of the smaller conferences have caught my eye moving forward.

Personal projects have value.
I’m always interested in the themes that naturally emerge during a creative conference. Without planning, a common theme tends to surface, almost as if we were all thinking it, but nobody said it aloud. At Creative South ’25, one of the standout themes was the importance of personal projects. How they sharpen skills, keep you creatively fulfilled, and open doors to paid work. These efforts are often rewarded down the line. Even if these projects take years to bear fruit, they usually do. As someone who left a stable creative job to pursue an alternate path built on a foundation of personal lettering projects, this was a validating sentiment and one I can now confirm to be true. I had already been thinking I needed to set aside more time for personal projects, and hearing this from several speakers lit a fire under my ass to get back in the saddle and ride.

Thanks to my buddies Danny Rosas and Erik Olson for taking some snaps of the crew.

When I leaped into independent studio life two years ago, I made a promise to myself to attend a creative conference or workshop at least every two years. The goal was to surround myself with those who inspire me, break my routine, and build a network with other creative contractors. If Into the Woods and Creative South taught me anything, it’s that being a part of a creative community also creates a strong sense of self. I left feeling inspired and confident in my place in this field. I plan to share more on hitting the two-year milestone in an upcoming post.

The wild unknown.

May marks one year since I made the jump to life as a full-time independent contractor. It was a big step to leave the familiar bustle of life in an agency, but it was time for a change. After years of preparation and convincing myself I wasn’t about to make a huge mistake, I finally committed to solo life. Fast-forward a year, and here I am with a smile on my face.

If I could sum up my experience this past year in two words, they would be thankful and proud. I am thankful for all the clients, brands, collaborators, and advocates who believed in this type-obsessed hippie from some small town in Idaho. I also feel incredibly proud of all the kick-ass work we created together. These relationships and the work we crafted during this time will always be special to me.

The independent path isn’t for everyone—probably most people, if I’m being honest. That said, It wasn’t quite the post-apocalyptic wasteland that some say it is. One of the biggest things I was worried about before making the switch was staying engaged while working remotely. I love working with other creatives. I especially love digging in during concepting sessions. This is my happy place, and I had a fear that the concept and direction chops I pride myself on would somehow vaporize in a silo of loneliness from my home office. Though I knew that fear was irrational and total bullshit, I still tried to follow three simple tenets to prevent it from happening. I wanted to share these below, along with some insight on what I learned over the first year, for anyone considering the transition to solo life.

Prepare your landing.
Though there is no amount of preparation that will remove all the anxiety you feel when making the switch, there are things you can do to make the transition a little easier on yourself. Last year, I wrote a short post about the steps I took HERE. It might seem obvious, but anything you can do to get things up and running beforehand will be time well spent when you decide to flip the switch. These might include portfolio updates, contracts and legal, planning for retirement, insurance, billing systems, possible clients, and getting projects in the pipeline. The idea is that when it’s time to step on the gas, things are already running smoothly. In my case, I was working outside the standard full-time hours of my day job until I built enough business to sustain a full-time workload of my own projects as well. It was a bit of a sufferfest for the few months that I essentially worked two full-time jobs. But this workload gave me the confidence to step out with peace of mind.

Meet with other creatives every week.
Meeting with creatives, preferably creatives you don’t already know, even from disciplines other than your own, will keep you from getting in your own head and add a fresh perspective. It also radically expands your network as a bonus—for many introverted creatives, this is huge. Thank you to everyone who took the time to meet with me this past year—we had some great conversations along the way. On this same note, I also recommend going to creative conferences alone. I did this for the first time last spring at Lincoln Design’s Into the Woods Creative Conference. At first, I was worried about not having the usual pack of coworkers to mob around with for three days, but without this safety net, it encouraged me to break out and make many more connections.

Find trusted advisors and listen.
Find a couple of confidants/peers with whom you can talk through the tough stuff—things like bids, negotiations, and tricky client situations. Be very selective. This resource will keep you from getting in your own way and confirm you aren’t taking crazy pills when heading into uncharted waters. Make sure these people know their shit. Like really know their shit. For example, don’t take advice on high-end editorial design from someone who doesn’t have a proven track record in high-end editorial design.

In closing, I’m feeling proud of myself for making the leap and extremely thankful for those who had my back. I especially want to thank my badass wife for her unflinching support throughout the process. And though there are still challenges in solo land, they are my challenges. And that ownership feels damn good. I’m also happy to report that the skills I was worried about slipping during the switch not only survived but flourished after going solo. If you are a creative reading this and have questions about the unfiltered truth of going solo, please reach out.

Getting down with downtime.

We all know time is valuable. And the constant pressure to get the most out of our time can be draining, especially for creatives. This nonstop battle with the clock and the hustle culture it creates often leads to burnout—something every creative will experience, myself included.

Last year, I was burnt out. I felt stagnant and decided to reduce my hours at my stable agency job to clear my head. It sounds silly to cut down on a good thing, but I needed to kickstart my curiosity and get the juices flowing again. This downtime helped me reevaluate how I used my week creatively and inspired me to move forward. I set aside at least one workday each week to create and explore whatever I wanted. I didn’t have a specific goal, but I knew something had to change, and I wanted to follow my gut and see where it led. Admittedly, this seems inconsequential and obvious, but the results quickly reassured me that I made the right decision. I started creating work I was proud of again and built relationships that challenged me creatively—something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

During this time, I also noticed a drastic increase in efficiency. I only had one day at my disposal, so I put every minute to good use. There was nobody to blame but myself if things didn’t get done. Over time, this organically improved my workflow. Slowly at first, then it took on a life of its own. The same tasks took half the time and with increased quality. I could get far more done in one day than an entire week in the previous grind. It was astounding.

Don’t get me wrong, taking a step back from the familiar comfort of the agency world was scary initially. But I was at a point where I needed more than good enough, more than simply existing from project to project. I needed the creative passion back. I had to light a fire under my ass and break the cycle. Ad agency life can be great, epic even. But the day-to-day work often isn’t inspiring or creatively stimulating. And that’s OK, expected even. Do your work—it’s a job, after all. But always leave time for yourself and your creative goals. From there, you can help support those around you and grow as a unit. This is especially true for creative leadership roles. When everyone grows, things get interesting, and the work automatically improves.

The relationships that developed during this time pushed my work forward and reignited my creative passion. A year later and what started as an eight-hour experiment is now my full-time job, and I couldn’t be happier.

In short, If you don’t make time for yourself, who will? Your mental health will thank you—and your work will too. Get after it.

A few travel photography tips from someone who isn’t a travel photographer, for people who aren’t photographers.

If you’re looking for some simple photography tips when traveling you’re in the right place. If you want something more specialized, the internet is already filled with thousands of informative articles that do exactly that. But for most people, travel is more about being there and documenting things for your personal memory. We aren’t exactly making art here—which leads me to my first tip.

Support the pros.
Let’s be real, nobody cares about your vacation photos. If you want to look at good images, support a professional and buy their coffee table book on the area. Famous locations filled with hundreds of people taking selfies are something nobody wants to see. Will you get some cool shots while on the road? Sure you will. But for most of us, it’s just part of the adventure, not why you’re there.

Chill out.
Easy there, big shooter. Put the camera back in its holster. If you walk around with the camera in front of your face you aren’t really seeing things. There is the argument that you need to always be ready, but unless you’re there specifically to take photos or being paid to do so, wait for the right time. The right time is obviously subjective and relative to many things including light, people, and location to name a few. Listen to your gut when the time feels right and relax for the rest—remember you’re on vacation. Nobody likes the awkward dude walking around taking pointless photos of everything in sight.

Tell Instagram to suck it.
Don’t let the pointless pressure of social media ruin your time away. People aren’t going to lose sleep over you not posting a photo of the doughnut you had for breakfast. Sure, post here and there, but don’t live through your likes.

Be patient.
Sometimes the people are the magic and sometimes it’s the location. Finding an interesting scene and waiting it out can produce some good images. Like people-watching at a market for example. If the setting is right sometimes all it takes is a subject wandering through your frame to make the shot. And I don’t mean wait with a camera in front of your face—just relax and enjoy the ride.

Talk to strangers—sorry mom.
If you’re anything like me, people are the most interesting thing to photograph. Talking with locals will not only inform you about the area and what it has to offer, but you might just make a portrait or a new friend in the process.

Hello there, do you know of any good restaurants in the area?

Have fun.
I feel like people who are interested in photos have pressure on them when they travel to make something cool. Possibly because of IG culture. Fuck it. Pay no mind to that pointless rat race. Do your thing and have fun. If it stops being fun then you know something’s off. In the wise words of Joe Dirt, “life’s a garden, dig it.”

Art directors just draw all day, right?

Ok, full disclosure, I’m writing this post for two reasons. The first is to be a quick reference and resource for anyone curious, and the second is I still don’t think my parents know what I do for a living. Admittedly, being an AD is something that most don’t give a rip about and it’s also not an easy thing to describe to folks outside the advertising industry. Though art direction and its role vary depending on the industry, I’ll focus on its use and benefits within advertising.

Ever wonder how brands like Nike (to beat a very dead horse) often have a certain look that even an untrained eye can tell are Nike’s—even before seeing the word “Nike” or their logo? The very watered-down answer is almost always skilled art direction, though many attribute this solely to brand standards.

So, what is it then? To explain I’m going to go a little out there for this next part—hang in there with me. Cars get you to where you need to go, right? Of course, but without a good driver, they can be a deathtrap too. Think of a car as a creative asset, whether that be a killer photographer, illustrator, designer, or a slew of other creative disciplines. The car does what it does best. Drive. But knowing how to drive doesn’t necessarily mean it knows the destination too. An art director’s background (usually in graphic design) helps inform how various assets will live together. A simple way of looking at it is an art director’s job is to guide the creation of visual assets while using available resources. Ultimately getting the most creative horsepower it can out of the car, and more importantly, the client’s investment.

An art director’s job is to guide the creation of visual assets while using available resources.

Ok, back to the real world. I’ll use advertising photography as my go-to example, only because it’s a common area of art direction and one I’m very comfortable with. A photographer, even a phenomenal one is focused on their craft—making killer images that fit the brief. But an image, even a fucking beautiful one can oftentimes be misguided creatively and sadly rendered unusable for specific campaign purposes. An experienced art director working alongside a photographer can make sure the beautiful images are also well suited to accomplish the task at hand while fitting the overall creative direction of a campaign/publication. And this is where what I said earlier about Nike ties back in. There is a lot of good creative out there, but assets curated for specific uses within brand guidelines are what makes Nike’s stuff look like their stuff—this is art direction. Obviously, creative direction plays a role in this as well, but for simplicity’s sake and to keep this post short the visual ecosystem is largely impacted by art direction, as a creative director has to share more time with other brand elements like messaging etc.

Using a campaign as a loose example, art direction does a few things for the client:

1. Delivers more usable* content with the same financial investment.

2. Creates visual content that is cohesive with campaign messaging.

3. Produces turn-key assets that solve common design challenges.

4. Build visual elements that can effortlessly mesh into one brand organism—a callback to Nike.

5. Improves communication between clients and vendors, resulting in better relationships.

6. Provides superior final results. A side effect of No. 5, hard to believe I know, but it’s often true.

7. Helps foster quality writing. Copywriters and ADs are a classic power duo for good reason.

8. Offers a different perspective on problem-solving.

*Deliverables made with the end design/goal in mind, ultimately making them more valuable than assets less suited for the end medium.

In closing, art direction isn’t necessarily a title per see. It can be as simple as a unique way of looking at and solving creative problems. It’s a skill that needs to be exercised and built over time and anyone can learn with practice. If you’re thinking about making a creative investment, especially a significant one, consider bringing on a seasoned AD with category-specific experience to help guide and expand your efforts. You will not be disappointed.

A beast of mythical proportions.

I know what you’re probably thinking. Strategy can’t possibly be dead because I hear that word at least 600 times a day at the office. And you’re right, strategy isn’t dead, but the word seems to be losing its luster. So, what the hell does a hippie creative think about strategy anyway? I hope you’ll stick around and find out.

But what does it mean?

Strategy is simply the plan to achieve a goal.

My concern is with the rampant overuse and swollen sense of specialization of the word. Not with its meaning or real-world value. Despite how it’s constantly used, honest-to-goodness strategy simply doesn’t exist within every aspect of every task. And it can’t simply be removed from a project and pivoted into a new direction with no repercussions. Strategy doesn’t sit on the surface—it’s structural. And if it can be obliterated on a whim, chances are there wasn’t much going on in the first place. Does overusing a term like strategy bring it top-of-mind, or does it actually kill its value over time? Personally, I feel it’s the latter. Strategy has huge value and I’m not arguing otherwise, but I do have a few thoughts on how we might keep it from becoming a buzzword.

1. You don’t need to be a “strategist” to be a strategist.
Most of the best strategists I’ve worked with weren’t “strategists”, but simply hard-working thinkers who provided solutions to the problem at hand—regardless of their title or profession. That doesn’t mean there aren’t great “strategists” out there, just reevaluate the unicorn image.

2. Make an effort to not overuse the word where you can.
If you use a word excessively it can’t carry true weight. Eventually, it becomes a buzzword, or worse, a joke. It’s like using an exclamation point at the end of every sentence. It’s rendered meaningless over time and nobody wants that. Overuse makes the real strategy you worked hard for appear less valuable or not valuable at all. Instead of saying strategy all the time, consider talking more about the problem, solution, and simply asking why you’re doing what you’re doing in the first place. I have seen this small change work wonders over the years. A similar example we face in the design industry is avoiding the word “like”. Like is a safety word that’s easy to hide behind when giving design feedback. When you can’t rely on using terms such as “like” or “don’t like”, it really makes you open your vocabulary, be less subjective, and focus on the why—and that’s damn valuable.

3. Design and strategy are fundamentally connected.
The relationship between design and strategy is symbiotic, one can’t exist without the other. Hold up, designers aren’t strategists though, right? Wrong. Remember, you don’t need to be a “strategist” to be a strategist. I’m not saying each design choice is a game-changing solution, but good design is driven by many choices that support the ultimate goal. Decisions, even small ones, should be made with the end solution in mind.

Let’s do our best to keep strategy alive.

To wrap things up, I’d like to say that my views are through the lens of a creative professional. As a creative, I think that all good creative work is strategic—or at least I’d like it to be. But let’s be honest, the industry tends to inflate and hyper-value strategy to a point that undermines its worth. It’s no surprise many have become gun-shy with agencies and their miracle elixir strategies—but that’s an entirely different post. As an industry, let’s make an effort to keep the term and its value alive while having some fun along the way.

Over the years, numerous people have asked me if I’ve ever thought about making a blog to share my thoughts. I’ve always wrestled with the idea as I’m not a writer and I definitely don’t like being on a soapbox of any kind. That said, I’ve always loved having conversations with other creatives and oftentimes these conversations end up spurring new ideas. These experiences helped me decide to give it a shot and here we are.

What to expect.
This will be a place for my thoughts on an industry I live and breathe, commercial art and advertising. I’ve been a creative my whole life, but professionally now for over a decade. All thoughts I share here will be based on hands-on experience in the industry. No BS. No fluff. Told like it is with the creative always top-of-mind. I’ve encountered the good, the bad, and the ugly on my creative journey and I’ve been extremely fortunate to have learned from all of it. Though I see this blog as being primarily industry-related, I’ll likely share some other tidbits along the way. Please join me for the ride.