I was in Standard 8 (Year 10) when my design teacher asked the class if we thought we could create a piece of design that people would actually buy. Two classmates and I ended up producing a digital magazine called I Eat Soup, burned onto CDs (I’m old now), which showcased other students’ art and design. We somehow managed to get it stocked in a few stores in Cape Town and Johannesburg and sold a couple of copies.

We were so naive and didn’t follow any design principles, but that was the beauty of it. There was this pure freedom and joy in making something together. That experience made me realise I wanted to dedicate my life to doing something creative.

I wouldn’t say I have a distinct visual style. Each identity or project needs to feel explicitly different to reflect the brand’s and sometimes the client’s personality.

What I do have is a methodology: I present one direction to clients but this after going through a rigorous process of discovery with the client. That single-minded approach has become a defining part of how I work and present identity systems.

Clarity, empathy and fun are some core values I try retain as much as possible. Especially in identity design, I see it as our role to give clients something to believe in and not just something to choose from.

Access to mentorship, funding, and visibility shouldn’t be reserved for the already connected. Coming from South Africa, I’ve seen the deep inequalities firsthand, which is why I’ve tried to mentor students in less privileged communities. This kind of support needs to be built into the foundations of how we structure creative ecosystems and nurture future talent.

Unfortunately, our industry still carries a lot of ego and elitism, which often blocks genuine sharing and the act of lifting others up. That needs to shift.

It’s essential. Your voice is the only thing that sets you apart in a super saturated world. But it’s also okay to find your cadence, it takes time and it evolves as you do (I’m still figuring mine out). Sometimes, your voice is not what you say, but what you choose not to do.

Technology will keep evolving, but how we respond to it and integrate it into our practice will matter. We need to stay human, intentional, and connected. Our communities are more important than ever.

A lot. Growing up in Cape Town, I was surrounded by rich, layered culture, that shaped who I am as a designer. The creative scene there is competitive but humble, and there’s a spirit of generosity that really shaped my values.

In Sydney, I’m adjusting to a different rhythm, with a deep appreciation for craft and lifestyle. My walk through the city to the studio constantly gives me new sparks of inspiration.

It’s everything. I’m third generation South African Chinese, and growing up in-between cultures gave me a deep sensitivity to nuance. For a long time, I felt like I wasn’t “Chinese enough” or “South African enough,” but I’ve made peace with that ambiguity. It’s become a strength. It’s a lens I bring into every project, every brief, and every client conversation.

I’m still getting to know Sydney, but the talent here is incredible. I really admire the work of M35, Studio Koto, Christopher Doyle & Co., and Gemma O’Brien, just to name a few. Honestly, the creative energy and talent across Australia is wild.

You don’t need a style to start but rather focus on your approach, your process, your voice, and your community.

After relocating from South Africa to Australia, I’ve had to start fresh, which has been both terrifying and refreshing. It’s pushed me to reevaluate everything and gain new clarity. Trends come and go, but if you want longevity in identity design, focus on delivering meaning and narrative, not just aesthetics.

Be open, but not passive. The work is only as good as the questions you ask. And never underestimate the value of good people, peers, mentors, collaborators because design becomes something truly special when we listen and create with others.