A designer claiming to be its own worst client is a cliché, but it's also an understatement. I set out to tackle this apparently impossible mission, drilling through months of sweat and tears — none of which were of joy — to come as close as I possibly could to describing my work in a dozen inches of paper and a couple of screens. As is usually the case with designers working for themselves, I never got remotely close to being happy with the result — but some part of me shone through in the process nonetheless.
I can trace back my fascination for the process of mediating communication through graphic design to the moment I realized it is not so much about the production of visual stimulus, as it is about the creation of intangible, quasi-textual means of human interaction, necessarily soiled by the hands of their creator. In part, that explains why I like to see myself as more of a visual thinker than an illustrator of thought. I like to think that, against all the odds of working to meet my own standards, part of that pervaded the project.
