I sometimes say I’m a designer on the outside, writer on the inside. That combination is what draws me to projects where form and content meet—books, magazines, calendars, reports, and print campaigns that aren’t just meant to look good, but to say something.
Clients often tell me they’re surprised—and relieved—that I actually read what I’m designing. I take that as a compliment. Because in a scroll-fast, decorate-it-later world, I believe the best design doesn’t just catch the eye. It earns trust. It communicates. It amplifies meaning.
This is the foundation of my approach at Credible Ink, too: design that reflects not just what something looks like, but what it means—and why it matters. Whether I'm laying out a 200-page report or a 200-word book description, I’m always thinking about structure, clarity, and how the right visual choices can elevate the message at the heart of it all.
If you really want to understand something, try teaching it. For six years, I taught undergraduates the art and strategy of logo design—and in doing so, constantly re-examined my own approach. Each semester sharpened my perspective on what makes a logo not just look good, but work well.
Styles shift, but a few qualities never go out of fashion: clarity, memorability (ideally with a touch of wit), and versatility across platforms. A good logo should carry meaning without excess and adapt without losing its identity.
These are a few logos I’ve created that embody that balance—simple, smart, and built to last.
For authors, educators, and founders, a strong logo is often the cornerstone of a visual brand. It signals credibility, sets the tone, and ensures that your ideas show up in the world with intention and consistency. Whether it’s for a personal brand, imprint, or book series, I approach logo design as a strategic tool—one that supports your message without overpowering it.
Teaching has always been more than a side note in my career—it’s been a mirror, a sharpening tool, and a constant source of insight. Working with undergraduate design students pushed me to articulate what I believe about good design: that it’s intentional, communicative, and deeply human. It forced me to go beyond instinct and really interrogate the “why” behind the work.
Teaching, like design, is a dialogue. Over the years, I’ve learned just as much from my students as they’ve learned from me. It’s shaped how I approach creative work—not as a one-way delivery, but as a collaborative process rooted in curiosity, clarity, and growth.
I also had the joy (and challenge) of teaching K–12 art at an international school in Xi’an, China—a crash course in adapting creative goals to new environments, age groups, and resource limitations. Planning projects that were developmentally appropriate, meaningful, and culturally sensitive was its own kind of design brief. I’ve included some of their work here, too, as a reminder of just how much teaching stretches you in the best ways.
From 2014 to 2016, I completed my MFA in Graphic Design at the Vermont College of Fine Arts—a deeply formative experience that reshaped how I think about design, language, and authorship. It gave me space to step outside client work and reconnect with my creative roots. More than anything, it reminded me that I’m not just a designer—I’m also an artist, a writer, and a maker of meaning.
This part of my practice doesn’t always show up in my client portfolio, but it’s foundational. It’s where I explore intuition, language, and visual form without the constraints of a brief. That work quietly informs everything I do—from book design to brand strategy to the way I listen.
These images are glimpses from that MFA journey and beyond.
