The Unseen Path: How I Found My Future After Print's Finale
The Prelude: On the Cusp of Change
If you've found yourself wrestling with the relentless advance of AI and the digital revolution transforming our industry, know that you're not alone. Much like the shifting sands beneath our feet, innovations such as these challenge us to rethink our paths and redefine our passions.
I'll tell you a time that it happened to me. And I didn't take it too well.
Print.
I had worked at Kinko's during my years at college. Everyday for four years in this chaotic temple of corporate correspondence and shallow ambitions I wore the blue apron and hustled copy orders. Here, amidst the relentless hum of printers, ever-present smell of toner, and the soft rustle of paper, my journey as a graphic designer took root. I loved it. Because here was a playground of machines, materials, and expensive software, where my passion for graphic design blossomed and my exposure to the greater print industry and super-cool design agencies was given in abundance. Back then, it all was connected.
I translated this work (and play) to college as more than a course of study; it was a love affair with the tangible.
Yet, when I graduated college, left Kinko's and stepped into the professional world, the ground beneath me shifted.
Lesson 1: The Ground Beneath Us Can Shift Unexpectedly
Print died.
Well. That is a bit dramatic. But, the print industry, as I knew it, began to crumble—seemingly overnight. The jobs disappeared, the accounts dried up, and the clients innovated.
The circumstance felt to me as if I’d been underwater, just getting deeper. The sight of water's surface slowly diminishing as I'm dragged to the depths of the unknown. I struggled. I swam harder, but deeper I sank.
So, maybe it was my relevance that died.
I resented my place.
And of course, I blamed myself.
I was either too dumb or not talented enough to make it work.
So, I found myself navigating through the stages of grief. The stage of denial was my unwelcome companion for far longer than I care to admit. The world was moving forward, and I was standing still, clinging to the remnants of a disappearing craft.
It was a period of introspection, of questioning, as I mourned the loss of what I had believed was my calling.
Lesson 2: Endings Pave the Way for New Beginnings
But the end of print was not the end of my story.
As I emerged from the fog of denial, I redirected my focus towards the future. It was in this forward-looking mindset that I discovered a new realm of possibilities in branding and experiential design. This wasn’t merely a rebound; it was a deeper, more profound love than I had ever experienced with print.
The transition wasn’t immediate, nor was it easy, but it was transformative. I learned to weave narratives not just on paper, but across a multitude of platforms, creating immersive experiences that engaged and inspired.
Lesson 3: Embrace the Tools and Tactics of Transformation
Technically, I started to learn the power of designing ideas, rather than just making things pretty.
I was designing ideas that could resonate on a deeper level with clients and users. In this new chapter, InDesign became my tool of choice, a software I was already familiar with from my days of laying out books, but now repurposed for crafting compelling pitch decks and proposals. Its flexibility allowed me to create presentations that could easily be transformed into Keynote or PowerPoint slides and PDFs for client communication, approval, and iterative development.
Working closely with architects introduced me to integrating floor plans and elevations into my designs, utilizing InDesign's capability to blend photos, supportive text, and especially enhancing their renders (or making my own) in Photoshop. This approach not only presented the architectural vision in a tangible form but also allowed me to explore and explain target audience behaviors in both physical and digital spaces, marrying the architectural vision with user experience.
Lesson 4: Reimagining Design Through the User's Eyes
The greatest challenge lay in rethinking design from a user-centered perspective. At first, I leaned heavily on UX/UI principles. But then... I discovered something more profound. The teachings about brand integration into user experience, particularly those from Marty Neumeier's "The Brand Gap", opened my eyes.
You see, I had always been in the business of making logos, as all designers inevitably are—be it for a friend's new band, an uncle's hot dog stand, or some random client’s entrepreneurial venture inspired by Ayn Rand. People need logos. But through Neumeier's teachings, I learned that a truly effective logo is the product of deep brand understanding. This principle, it turns out, is universally applicable.
This wasn’t just another design tactic; it was a paradigm shift.
Diving into the psychology of why people act, engage, and connect, I moved away from the fleeting allure of trends. Popular culture, with its superficial grip on aesthetics, couldn’t offer the depth I was seeking. Good brand--good design--was about creating experiences that resonate on a more meaningful level with the target audience.
Lesson 5: The Road to Revelation Is Paved with Resistance
I would like to say my transition was profound. Dropping my tools, or dropping to my knees, in some glorious revelation.
But I was scared.
Scared to get fired, scared to lose a paycheck, health insurance. Scared to look like a failure.
So it came slowly. It was marked by resistance and moments of frustration. Getting distracted (because girls and beer), getting fired (because I was expendable), or getting underpaid (because I didn’t understand value).
It felt like trying to solve a complex math problem—either solve this problem or don’t eat. But still, this problem was so hard to solve. I had embraced new titles beyond 'graphic designer'; Art/Creative Director, Product Developer, Project Manager, even Marketing Manager. At the time it felt desperate, now it shakes out as building my relevance. I was learning.
And I was doing the thing I have always been good at, ignoring superficial boundaries and mix-matching to make things work.
Lesson 6: Perseverance Through Uncertainty Yields Breakthroughs
In hindsight, I suppose what felt like relentless pressure to solve the problem for survival, did actually prove to be a relentless perseverance.
I suppose.
What it did do was lead me to a breakthrough. Not one marked by a sudden 'eureka' moment or an overconfident declaration of success. Instead, my realization came quietly, observed in the rearview mirror of progress—'Wait, this is actually working.' This understated moment of recognition proved the real value of my new approach, making its effectiveness undeniable.
My designs started to achieve real, meaningful engagement, far removed from the superficial allure of quick fixes.
This led me to a unique intersection of experiential design and brand strategy, where my work not only stood out aesthetically but also connected more authentically with the target audience. Collaborating with architects and product designers, and taking a direct approach with clients, allowed me to create solutions that addressed their "pain points".
I no longer had to wait for a boss’ directions. I focused on problems that needed solving.
I was able to design not just for beauty, but for functionality and impact, bridging the gap between form and purpose.
Now I'm the CEO of my very own design company, HIARKI.
So, that’s cool.
Lesson 7: Embracing Change Unlocks New Doors of Possibility
Through this journey I was taught an invaluable lesson; embrace change.
The world of design is ever-evolving, and to resist change is to risk obsolescence. I promised myself to never again allow fear or nostalgia to hold me back from exploring new horizons. Grieving for past loves is a part of life, but it is also a process through which we make room for new passions.
Today, I approach each shift in the industry not as a loss but as an opportunity to grow, to learn, and to fall in love all over again.
The path from print design to branding and experiential design has been one of self-discovery, resilience, and adaptability. It is a testament to the beauty of evolution, both personal and professional. As the industry continues to evolve, shaped by AI and new innovations, we too must adapt, finding new ways to express our creativity and connect with our audience.
So I say face industry change; it is a crossroads. It isn't fair and it isn't easy. But it has happened. I offer this story as a beacon of perspective. Change, though daunting, is not the end. It is a doorway to new beginnings, new loves, and unimaginable possibilities.
Embrace it.