Ideas that drive change

Moose&Yeti began as a name I put around the work I was already making. At the time, that meant illustration, editorial work, murals, exhibitions and design. I did not spend much time worrying about whether it all fitted neatly together. If something interested me, I wanted to explore it. Over the years, that curiosity took me further into brand, digital products, technology, physical experiences and creative direction. I worked within larger organisations, with much bigger teams, across different countries and with clients operating at very different scales. Moose&Yeti became quieter during that time, but I never really stopped thinking of it as mine.

Bringing it back now, I have a much better sense of the studio I want to build. I have more experience, stronger opinions and a clearer idea of the work I find interesting. I still do not want to define Moose&Yeti so tightly that it becomes restrictive. The range has always been part of it. What matters is doing good work with people I respect and staying involved enough to shape it properly. I have spent plenty of time leading teams, but I do not want Moose&Yeti to become a studio where my job is to oversee other people making things.

Moose&Yeti began as a name I put around the work I was already making. At the time, that meant illustration, editorial work, murals, exhibitions and design. I did not spend much time worrying about whether it all fitted neatly together. If something interested me, I wanted to explore it. Over the years, that curiosity took me further into brand, digital products, technology, physical experiences and creative direction. I worked within larger organisations, with much bigger teams, across different countries and with clients operating at very different scales. Moose&Yeti became quieter during that time, but I never really stopped thinking of it as mine.

Bringing it back now, I have a much better sense of the studio I want to build. I have more experience, stronger opinions and a clearer idea of the work I find interesting. I still do not want to define Moose&Yeti so tightly that it becomes restrictive. The range has always been part of it. What matters is doing good work with people I respect and staying involved enough to shape it properly. I have spent plenty of time leading teams, but I do not want Moose&Yeti to become a studio where my job is to oversee other people making things.

Moose&Yeti began as a name I put around the work I was already making. At the time, that meant illustration, editorial work, murals, exhibitions and design. I did not spend much time worrying about whether it all fitted neatly together. If something interested me, I wanted to explore it. Over the years, that curiosity took me further into brand, digital products, technology, physical experiences and creative direction. I worked within larger organisations, with much bigger teams, across different countries and with clients operating at very different scales. Moose&Yeti became quieter during that time, but I never really stopped thinking of it as mine.

Bringing it back now, I have a much better sense of the studio I want to build. I have more experience, stronger opinions and a clearer idea of the work I find interesting. I still do not want to define Moose&Yeti so tightly that it becomes restrictive. The range has always been part of it. What matters is doing good work with people I respect and staying involved enough to shape it properly. I have spent plenty of time leading teams, but I do not want Moose&Yeti to become a studio where my job is to oversee other people making things.

Following the idea

A lot of the work I have enjoyed most has sat between disciplines. A brand project might become a digital product problem. A website can expose something much more fundamental about how a company talks about itself. A physical experience can give rise to an idea that later proves useful elsewhere in the identity. Sometimes the technology is part of the concept from the beginning. Sometimes it turns out to be completely unnecessary. I have never found the borders between these things particularly useful.

People do not experience a company as separate brand, product, marketing and experience departments. They see one thing. The fact that several teams or agencies may have been involved behind the scenes is irrelevant to them. That has shaped how I think about creative work. My job is to understand what a client is trying to achieve (whether that need is an identity, a website, a digital product or a physical experience), then look at the brief in that wider context and push the work as far as it needs to go.

I have worked across brand, digital and physical experiences for years, so moving between those areas feels natural rather than forced. Sometimes the work stays tightly focused on one discipline. Sometimes one part of the project reveals an opportunity elsewhere. The point is not to keep expanding the scope, but to understand how the different parts of an organisation connect and make better decisions as a result. When a project requires specialist expertise, additional capacity or a wider mix of skills, I can bring the right people to support the work. The team can grow around what the project actually needs without losing the frankness of the relationship or the thinking behind it.

Following the idea

A lot of the work I have enjoyed most has sat between disciplines. A brand project might become a digital product problem. A website can expose something much more fundamental about how a company talks about itself. A physical experience can give rise to an idea that later proves useful elsewhere in the identity. Sometimes the technology is part of the concept from the beginning. Sometimes it turns out to be completely unnecessary. I have never found the borders between these things particularly useful.

People do not experience a company as separate brand, product, marketing and experience departments. They see one thing. The fact that several teams or agencies may have been involved behind the scenes is irrelevant to them. That has shaped how I think about creative work. My job is to understand what a client is trying to achieve (whether that need is an identity, a website, a digital product or a physical experience), then look at the brief in that wider context and push the work as far as it needs to go.

I have worked across brand, digital and physical experiences for years, so moving between those areas feels natural rather than forced. Sometimes the work stays tightly focused on one discipline. Sometimes one part of the project reveals an opportunity elsewhere. The point is not to keep expanding the scope, but to understand how the different parts of an organisation connect and make better decisions as a result. When a project requires specialist expertise, additional capacity or a wider mix of skills, I can bring the right people to support the work. The team can grow around what the project actually needs without losing the frankness of the relationship or the thinking behind it.

Following the idea

A lot of the work I have enjoyed most has sat between disciplines. A brand project might become a digital product problem. A website can expose something much more fundamental about how a company talks about itself. A physical experience can give rise to an idea that later proves useful elsewhere in the identity. Sometimes the technology is part of the concept from the beginning. Sometimes it turns out to be completely unnecessary. I have never found the borders between these things particularly useful.

People do not experience a company as separate brand, product, marketing and experience departments. They see one thing. The fact that several teams or agencies may have been involved behind the scenes is irrelevant to them. That has shaped how I think about creative work. My job is to understand what a client is trying to achieve (whether that need is an identity, a website, a digital product or a physical experience), then look at the brief in that wider context and push the work as far as it needs to go.

I have worked across brand, digital and physical experiences for years, so moving between those areas feels natural rather than forced. Sometimes the work stays tightly focused on one discipline. Sometimes one part of the project reveals an opportunity elsewhere. The point is not to keep expanding the scope, but to understand how the different parts of an organisation connect and make better decisions as a result. When a project requires specialist expertise, additional capacity or a wider mix of skills, I can bring the right people to support the work. The team can grow around what the project actually needs without losing the frankness of the relationship or the thinking behind it.

Staying close to the work

For a long time, I assumed that building a studio would eventually mean building a bigger company: more people, more projects, more infrastructure. I am not particularly interested in that version of growth anymore.

What matters more to me is staying close enough to the work to know what is actually happening. On a project, I might be involved in the first conversation about the business, then work on the identity, question a line in a presentation or look at how something behaves on the website a few weeks later. I like that continuity. It means the thinking does not disappear somewhere between the brief and the final thing. There is obviously a limit to how much work can be done like that at once, and I am fine with that too. I would rather take on fewer projects and care about them properly than spend my time trying to keep a large permanent team busy.

That does not mean I want to work alone; quite the opposite. Some of the best work I have done has come from being around people who know things I do not. Developers, writers, strategists, animators, photographers, technologists and people with highly specialised expertise can completely change what a project can become. I want Moose&Yeti to work like that: the team changes when the problem changes. There is also something healthy about admitting where your own ability stops. I would much rather bring in somebody brilliant than pretend I know more than I do just to make the studio look bigger.

The important thing is that the collaboration is real. I have worked in situations where an idea passes through so many people that nobody quite owns it anymore. Everybody improves their little piece, yet somehow the overall thing gets weaker. I want to avoid that.

Staying close to the work

For a long time, I assumed that building a studio would eventually mean building a bigger company: more people, more projects, more infrastructure. I am not particularly interested in that version of growth anymore.

What matters more to me is staying close enough to the work to know what is actually happening. On a project, I might be involved in the first conversation about the business, then work on the identity, question a line in a presentation or look at how something behaves on the website a few weeks later. I like that continuity. It means the thinking does not disappear somewhere between the brief and the final thing. There is obviously a limit to how much work can be done like that at once, and I am fine with that too. I would rather take on fewer projects and care about them properly than spend my time trying to keep a large permanent team busy.

That does not mean I want to work alone; quite the opposite. Some of the best work I have done has come from being around people who know things I do not. Developers, writers, strategists, animators, photographers, technologists and people with highly specialised expertise can completely change what a project can become. I want Moose&Yeti to work like that: the team changes when the problem changes. There is also something healthy about admitting where your own ability stops. I would much rather bring in somebody brilliant than pretend I know more than I do just to make the studio look bigger.

The important thing is that the collaboration is real. I have worked in situations where an idea passes through so many people that nobody quite owns it anymore. Everybody improves their little piece, yet somehow the overall thing gets weaker. I want to avoid that.

Process is useful until it gets in the way

I have become suspicious of creative processes that are presented as universal. There are principles I come back to all the time: understand the context, ask the uncomfortable question if something does not make sense, look carefully before deciding on the answer, make things early enough to discover where your thinking is wrong, pay attention to the details. Beyond that, projects can vary widely.

An early-stage company trying to work out what it stands for does not need the same process as an established business whose brand has become fragmented over several years. Designing an interactive installation is nothing like building a sales deck system. Sometimes a lot of research is necessary. Sometimes everybody already knows what the issue is and another workshop is just another workshop. I am interested in doing what moves the project forward.

Making is part of that. I have always learned more from trying something than talking about it for too long. You can spend hours convincing yourself that an idea works and then discover in ten minutes that it does not. That is not wasted effort; it is usually useful information.

This is also why I do not like process becoming theatre. Clients do not need to be impressed by how many stages a project has. They need to understand what is happening, why decisions are being made and where their input is useful. Good collaboration should make the work clearer, not make the project feel more complicated.

Process is useful until it gets in the way

I have become suspicious of creative processes that are presented as universal. There are principles I come back to all the time: understand the context, ask the uncomfortable question if something does not make sense, look carefully before deciding on the answer, make things early enough to discover where your thinking is wrong, pay attention to the details. Beyond that, projects can vary widely.

An early-stage company trying to work out what it stands for does not need the same process as an established business whose brand has become fragmented over several years. Designing an interactive installation is nothing like building a sales deck system. Sometimes a lot of research is necessary. Sometimes everybody already knows what the issue is and another workshop is just another workshop. I am interested in doing what moves the project forward.

Making is part of that. I have always learned more from trying something than talking about it for too long. You can spend hours convincing yourself that an idea works and then discover in ten minutes that it does not. That is not wasted effort; it is usually useful information.

This is also why I do not like process becoming theatre. Clients do not need to be impressed by how many stages a project has. They need to understand what is happening, why decisions are being made and where their input is useful. Good collaboration should make the work clearer, not make the project feel more complicated.

Process is useful until it gets in the way

I have become suspicious of creative processes that are presented as universal. There are principles I come back to all the time: understand the context, ask the uncomfortable question if something does not make sense, look carefully before deciding on the answer, make things early enough to discover where your thinking is wrong, pay attention to the details. Beyond that, projects can vary widely.

An early-stage company trying to work out what it stands for does not need the same process as an established business whose brand has become fragmented over several years. Designing an interactive installation is nothing like building a sales deck system. Sometimes a lot of research is necessary. Sometimes everybody already knows what the issue is and another workshop is just another workshop. I am interested in doing what moves the project forward.

Making is part of that. I have always learned more from trying something than talking about it for too long. You can spend hours convincing yourself that an idea works and then discover in ten minutes that it does not. That is not wasted effort; it is usually useful information.

This is also why I do not like process becoming theatre. Clients do not need to be impressed by how many stages a project has. They need to understand what is happening, why decisions are being made and where their input is useful. Good collaboration should make the work clearer, not make the project feel more complicated.

The tools keep changing

I have always been drawn to technology, especially when it crosses into design. Some of that comes from curiosity: I like understanding how things work, and I like the point where an idea that would have been impossible a few years ago suddenly becomes relatively achievable. I have also seen plenty of technology added to projects simply because somebody wants the project to sound innovative, and that is usually obvious.

An interactive experience still needs a reason to be interactive; AI still needs a useful role. A technically impressive thing can still be boring. The current shift around AI makes this particularly visible. Creative production is changing very quickly, and there is no point pretending otherwise. Some things that previously required a lot of time or specialist knowledge are becoming easier. That is exciting, but it likewise means we are going to see an enormous amount of mediocre work produced very efficiently.

The ability to make something has never been the same as knowing what should be made. Judgement becomes more valuable in that environment. Taste matters. Context matters. Knowing when an idea is derivative matters. Knowing when the impressive technical solution is actually making the experience worse matters.

I want Moose&Yeti to be open to new tools without becoming dazzled by them. If something helps us make better work, lets us explore further, or gives a client a genuinely better answer, use it. If it is there because everybody else is talking about it this month, I am less interested.

The tools keep changing

I have always been drawn to technology, especially when it crosses into design. Some of that comes from curiosity: I like understanding how things work, and I like the point where an idea that would have been impossible a few years ago suddenly becomes relatively achievable. I have also seen plenty of technology added to projects simply because somebody wants the project to sound innovative, and that is usually obvious.

An interactive experience still needs a reason to be interactive; AI still needs a useful role. A technically impressive thing can still be boring. The current shift around AI makes this particularly visible. Creative production is changing very quickly, and there is no point pretending otherwise. Some things that previously required a lot of time or specialist knowledge are becoming easier. That is exciting, but it likewise means we are going to see an enormous amount of mediocre work produced very efficiently.

The ability to make something has never been the same as knowing what should be made. Judgement becomes more valuable in that environment. Taste matters. Context matters. Knowing when an idea is derivative matters. Knowing when the impressive technical solution is actually making the experience worse matters.

I want Moose&Yeti to be open to new tools without becoming dazzled by them. If something helps us make better work, lets us explore further, or gives a client a genuinely better answer, use it. If it is there because everybody else is talking about it this month, I am less interested.

The tools keep changing

I have always been drawn to technology, especially when it crosses into design. Some of that comes from curiosity: I like understanding how things work, and I like the point where an idea that would have been impossible a few years ago suddenly becomes relatively achievable. I have also seen plenty of technology added to projects simply because somebody wants the project to sound innovative, and that is usually obvious.

An interactive experience still needs a reason to be interactive; AI still needs a useful role. A technically impressive thing can still be boring. The current shift around AI makes this particularly visible. Creative production is changing very quickly, and there is no point pretending otherwise. Some things that previously required a lot of time or specialist knowledge are becoming easier. That is exciting, but it likewise means we are going to see an enormous amount of mediocre work produced very efficiently.

The ability to make something has never been the same as knowing what should be made. Judgement becomes more valuable in that environment. Taste matters. Context matters. Knowing when an idea is derivative matters. Knowing when the impressive technical solution is actually making the experience worse matters.

I want Moose&Yeti to be open to new tools without becoming dazzled by them. If something helps us make better work, lets us explore further, or gives a client a genuinely better answer, use it. If it is there because everybody else is talking about it this month, I am less interested.

Building something useful

One thing I have become more interested in over time is what happens after a project launches. A beautiful identity that nobody knows how to use is not particularly successful. Neither is a website that needs a designer every time somebody wants to add a page. The work has to survive normal life. That sounds obvious, but it changes how you design things. A system needs enough structure to hold together when more people start using it. It also needs enough flexibility that people do not immediately begin working around it. I have seen both extremes: systems so loose that everything slowly drifts apart, and systems so controlled that nobody can make anything interesting without breaking the rules. The useful place is somewhere in between.

For me, this is one of the most important parts of creative direction. The job is not just to make the first version look good. It is to give other people enough understanding and enough tools to keep making good decisions later. That can mean templates, components, guidelines or illustrations. Sometimes it is simply explaining the logic behind something rather than documenting another rule. The best handover is one where the client does not become dependent on you for every small decision afterwards. They should be in a stronger position because you were there.

Building something useful

One thing I have become more interested in over time is what happens after a project launches. A beautiful identity that nobody knows how to use is not particularly successful. Neither is a website that needs a designer every time somebody wants to add a page. The work has to survive normal life. That sounds obvious, but it changes how you design things. A system needs enough structure to hold together when more people start using it. It also needs enough flexibility that people do not immediately begin working around it. I have seen both extremes: systems so loose that everything slowly drifts apart, and systems so controlled that nobody can make anything interesting without breaking the rules. The useful place is somewhere in between.

For me, this is one of the most important parts of creative direction. The job is not just to make the first version look good. It is to give other people enough understanding and enough tools to keep making good decisions later. That can mean templates, components, guidelines or illustrations. Sometimes it is simply explaining the logic behind something rather than documenting another rule. The best handover is one where the client does not become dependent on you for every small decision afterwards. They should be in a stronger position because you were there.

Building something useful

One thing I have become more interested in over time is what happens after a project launches. A beautiful identity that nobody knows how to use is not particularly successful. Neither is a website that needs a designer every time somebody wants to add a page. The work has to survive normal life. That sounds obvious, but it changes how you design things. A system needs enough structure to hold together when more people start using it. It also needs enough flexibility that people do not immediately begin working around it. I have seen both extremes: systems so loose that everything slowly drifts apart, and systems so controlled that nobody can make anything interesting without breaking the rules. The useful place is somewhere in between.

For me, this is one of the most important parts of creative direction. The job is not just to make the first version look good. It is to give other people enough understanding and enough tools to keep making good decisions later. That can mean templates, components, guidelines or illustrations. Sometimes it is simply explaining the logic behind something rather than documenting another rule. The best handover is one where the client does not become dependent on you for every small decision afterwards. They should be in a stronger position because you were there.

Why Moose&Yeti now

I have asked myself this a lot since properly bringing the studio back. Part of it is timing. Part of it is wanting more control over the kind of work I spend my time on. Part of it is the feeling that I have reached a point where the different parts of my career finally make more sense together than they did separately.

I do not want to become a traditional agency. I also do not want Moose&Yeti to become a vehicle for me to freelance forever under a different name. There is something in between those two things that feels much more interesting: a small creative studio with a strong point of view, close relationships with clients, and a network of very good people who can come together around the work when needed. There needs to be enough range to move between strategy and making, between brand and digital, between something structured and something more experimental.

There are still parts of that model I am figuring out. There should always be. The first Moose&Yeti came from curiosity and a willingness to try things I had not done before. I don't want experience to slowly knock that out of me. Experience should make the judgement better. It should not make the work safer. That is the strand linking the old studio to the one I am building now.

I want to work with people who care about what they are making. I want clients who are open enough to let the answer change as the project develops. I want to keep being around people who are better than me at things. And I want the studio to make work that has a reason to exist. That is what Ideas that drive change means to me. Nothing grander than that.

Sometimes change is a company finally understanding how to explain itself. Sometimes it is making a difficult product feel simple. Sometimes it is giving a team a system that stops getting in their way. Occasionally it might be something that people remember because they have never experienced anything quite like it before. If the work leaves something clearer, stronger or more useful than it was when we arrived, that is a good place to start.

Why Moose&Yeti now

I have asked myself this a lot since properly bringing the studio back. Part of it is timing. Part of it is wanting more control over the kind of work I spend my time on. Part of it is the feeling that I have reached a point where the different parts of my career finally make more sense together than they did separately.

I do not want to become a traditional agency. I also do not want Moose&Yeti to become a vehicle for me to freelance forever under a different name. There is something in between those two things that feels much more interesting: a small creative studio with a strong point of view, close relationships with clients, and a network of very good people who can come together around the work when needed. There needs to be enough range to move between strategy and making, between brand and digital, between something structured and something more experimental.

There are still parts of that model I am figuring out. There should always be. The first Moose&Yeti came from curiosity and a willingness to try things I had not done before. I don't want experience to slowly knock that out of me. Experience should make the judgement better. It should not make the work safer. That is the strand linking the old studio to the one I am building now.

I want to work with people who care about what they are making. I want clients who are open enough to let the answer change as the project develops. I want to keep being around people who are better than me at things. And I want the studio to make work that has a reason to exist. That is what Ideas that drive change means to me. Nothing grander than that.

Sometimes change is a company finally understanding how to explain itself. Sometimes it is making a difficult product feel simple. Sometimes it is giving a team a system that stops getting in their way.

Occasionally it might be something that people remember because they have never experienced anything quite like it before. If the work leaves something clearer, stronger or more useful than it was when we arrived, that is a good place to start.

Why Moose&Yeti now

I have asked myself this a lot since properly bringing the studio back. Part of it is timing. Part of it is wanting more control over the kind of work I spend my time on. Part of it is the feeling that I have reached a point where the different parts of my career finally make more sense together than they did separately.

I do not want to become a traditional agency. I also do not want Moose&Yeti to become a vehicle for me to freelance forever under a different name. There is something in between those two things that feels much more interesting: a small creative studio with a strong point of view, close relationships with clients, and a network of very good people who can come together around the work when needed. There needs to be enough range to move between strategy and making, between brand and digital, between something structured and something more experimental.

There are still parts of that model I am figuring out. There should always be. The first Moose&Yeti came from curiosity and a willingness to try things I had not done before. I don't want experience to slowly knock that out of me. Experience should make the judgement better. It should not make the work safer. That is the strand linking the old studio to the one I am building now.

I want to work with people who care about what they are making. I want clients who are open enough to let the answer change as the project develops. I want to keep being around people who are better than me at things. And I want the studio to make work that has a reason to exist. That is what Ideas that drive change means to me. Nothing grander than that.

Sometimes change is a company finally understanding how to explain itself. Sometimes it is making a difficult product feel simple. Sometimes it is giving a team a system that stops getting in their way. Occasionally it might be something that people remember because they have never experienced anything quite like it before. If the work leaves something clearer, stronger or more useful than it was when we arrived, that is a good place to start.