The Conundrum of Creation in 2025

A Young Artist’s Quest to Shape The Future, Discover The Undisclosed, and Channel Chaos into Change.

At least, I think I am. That’s how it feels some days. Maybe it’s a feeling that’s part curiosity, part ambition, but also a healthy dose of uncertainty—because let’s face it, it’s impossible to know for sure when you’re still figuring out who you are and where you fit. I’m a designer in 2025, but I really see myself as an ‘artist,’ and the world around me sometimes feels like it is changing faster than I can keep up with. But that’s exactly why I’m here. Why I’m willing to take on challenges, walk into the unknown, and make mistakes. I want to learn. I want to grow. I want to be part of something bigger—something that adapts with me, with all of us. Adapting to design as it once was is dead. There simply isn’t enough time to master anything before it’s replaced by a new tool or trend. It’s time to rethink how design adapts to us—before the pace of change leaves us behind, modernizing everything so quickly that we can’t even process it, let alone consume it.

Being a young designer today means existing in a space where everything feels both impossibly vast and intimately close. It’s like living in a world that’s more connected than ever before, yet somehow more fractured. Technology is advancing at a dizzying pace, industries are evolving, and ideas that once felt revolutionary now seem commonplace. But despite all the progress, something is unsettling in the air. The lines between personal and professional, meaningful and superficial, are blurrier than they’ve ever been. The very notion of what it means to create is constantly shifting.

I am willing to step up and be a leader, but I’m also willing to collaborate. Because in this world, where creativity is no longer confined to the studio, collaboration has become a fundamental part of the design process. We don’t work in silos anymore; we thrive on sharing ideas, pushing boundaries, and learning from each other. But here’s the catch: when everything’s up for grabs, when every idea has the potential to go viral or crash and burn, the pressure is immense. The challenge is no longer just about creating something beautiful or functional—it’s about creating something that resonates, something that speaks to a generation struggling to define itself.

And then there’s the noise. Oh, the noise. The constant hum of information. The need to be constantly present, constantly innovative, and constantly relevant. As a designer, this puts me in a strange position. I’m tasked with creating experiences, but the very nature of the world we live in makes it hard to know what’s real and what’s manufactured. What’s meaningful, and what’s just noise that fades with the next algorithmic update? The line between authenticity and commodification has never been thinner, and finding that balance is not just tricky—it’s a constant conundrum.

I am curious about brand creation. More than that, I’m curious about the culture that shapes brands and how brands, in turn, shape culture. I find myself obsessed with understanding why people are so fiercely loyal to certain labels, and why they’ll spend hundreds, sometimes thousands, of dollars to wear a logo or support a cause. The role of design has always been to make things look good, but now, it’s about more than aesthetics. It’s about creating experiences that matter. How do you design something that isn’t just a product, but a reflection of values? Of identity? How do you create something that connects with people on a deeper level, something they’ll carry with them long after the purchase is made?

I am curious about the world—the paradox of it all. How we’re all connected, yet so distant. How we crave belonging in a society where the very concept of community seems increasingly fractured. We live in a world where attention spans are shrinking, where everything is at our fingertips but we still feel unsatisfied, and restless. And yet, at the same time, there’s an incredible drive to make a difference, to create positive change. How can design help bridge these divides? How can it make a real, lasting impact in a world that’s constantly evolving, where today’s innovation might be yesterday’s news tomorrow?

I’m not just curious about the world’s complexities, though. I’m also deeply curious about the way design intersects with the idea of a better society. I think about consumer experiences a lot—how they influence not just individual behaviors, but collective ones. How do you create products that don’t just satisfy immediate desires but foster healthier, more sustainable lifestyles? How do you build something that doesn’t harm the environment, but rather contributes to its healing?

There’s an inherent responsibility in design, and with it, an incredible power to influence. I know I can impact change. Whether it’s shaping a product, a service, or even a community, design holds immense potential to move us toward a more just and conscious world. But it’s a fine line. The temptation to design for profit, to lean into the instant gratification of virality or trends, can be overwhelming. But that’s not what I want. I want to design for impact. For longevity. For a future where people can look back and say, “That mattered.”

I am willing to make mistakes, to start over when things don’t work, to break down walls and to challenge the status quo. Because the truth is, I don’t have all the answers. I’m still figuring it out, just like everyone else. But I know this: design isn’t just about making things look good or function better. It’s about making a difference. It’s about crafting experiences, products, and stories that challenge the way we think and live, that encourage us to reflect on who we are and who we want to be.

I can grow. I can love what I do, love the impact I can have, love the possibility of what’s to come. I can observe, to listen, to execute with intention. In a world that feels like it’s changing at the speed of light, one thing remains constant: my desire to create something that matters. Something that will resonate beyond the buzz, beyond the trends, beyond the momentary noise. Something that will endure.

But the truth is, I’m still figuring out what it means to be the right fit in a world where everything is constantly shifting, where being true to yourself feels like an act of defiance, where the future isn’t certain but the possibilities are endless. But one thing is for sure: I’m here. And I’m willing.