My Work.
For five years, I served as Creative Director of Hope For The Day, a mental health nonprofit operating at the intersection of alternative culture, music, and advocacy. The organization ran events, campaigns, and community activations across the country — festivals, concerts, gallery shows, street-level outreach — all of it dependent on a brand that could be executed consistently by staff, partners, and volunteers who were rarely in the same room and often didn’t know each other.
I built the infrastructure. Brand guidelines, distribution frameworks, and project management structures that kept production moving across departments and stakeholders with competing priorities and wildly different levels of design literacy. The brand had to be simple enough for a volunteer to execute correctly at a pop-up booth and specific enough that it still felt like itself when a national media outlet picked it up. That range is where most brand systems fail — they’re built for one end of the spectrum and come apart at the other.
When COVID shut down the events calendar and threatened to close Sip of Hope — the organization’s coffee shop and a primary income source for its team — the infrastructure I’d built did what infrastructure is supposed to do under pressure. It held. The Save Sip campaign mobilized the community that had been built around the brand over years of consistent, specific, considered work. The doors stayed open.
"Brand infrastructure that holds under pressure. That’s the standard every engagement is built to."
The studio work that followed is drawn from the same principles, applied to founders in retail, hospitality, and entertainment industries, where the brand experience is the product as much as anything on the shelf, or the menu, or the stage. Every engagement begins with a consultation. The proposal names what was found. The build moves through the architecture of the brand in sequence. Nothing is decorative. Everything earns its place in the system.
