I needed to work as a creative. But I also knew I wasn’t an artist. I knew something had to change when I realized my favorite part of finishing a report wasn’t the analysis—it was choosing the fonts and colors. I enjoy data and research, but I took a particular thrill in making sure the document looked just right. That was the wake-up call.
The act of creating has always been satisfying—the ability to step back and say, “That came to life because of me.” But for years, making that a professional reality felt just out of reach. The idea of spending another decade squeezing creativity into the margins of my work, refining a PowerPoint slide here and a report layout there, wasn’t enough.
Yet, the professional world seems to need boxes. Creative or strategist? Designer or manager? Writer or visual communicator? The expectation to pick a lane was constant. At one point, I even asked a director and mentor to recognize me as a Communications Manager—not because I needed the title, but because I wanted my creative work to be fully seen. Rebuilding the organization’s website and crafting a full communication strategy had been some of my most fulfilling work. But she had the foresight to push back. “You’re a great designer,” she told me, “but your superpower is strategy and writing.” She wasn’t wrong.
Now, in the later part of my thirties, the little girl who loved doodling and making things has reintroduced herself to the strategist and writer. Looking back, creativity has found its way into every chapter of my unconventional career—teaching, bartending, project management. Colleagues have often remarked, “Oh, you draw,” not as a question but as a statement of something fundamental about who I am.
Launching a consultancy has been a way to refuse the false choice between strategy and design. Over the past year and a half, refining design skills that were previously developed in an ad-hoc fashion has been a priority. But the real strength isn’t just in envisioning—it’s in translating ideas into something real, something tangible, and working with others to make that happen.
The refrain is familiar: Yes, I do graphic design, but that’s not all. Yes, I can help tell your story, research competitors, and articulate what makes your work unique. But I also want to work with you to create a visual world for your vision.
Every day, I swing—like an excited monkey—between strategy and visual design. And that balance? That’s where the magic happens.