It is sometime in the Winter of 2022 and I have an idea to start a show that documents conversations with Chicago designers. I look online and discover that it is not that complicated to record and publish a podcast.
I can do that, I say. At that moment, I am inspired by both On Being by Krista Tippet and Design Observer by Jessica Helfand and Michael Bierut. I am moved by their casual conversations — they feel unscripted and intimate.
I buy a microphone and record the first episode with a friend—I am the guest and I introduce the show and the story behind the Chicago Graphic Design Club. I have never recorded myself ever—it feels a bit unnatural, but I am drawn to the process of learning and sharing a space with others. Listening back to that first episode, I am both slightly embarrassed but proud that I took that step that landed me here, writing this post.
The first handful of episodes—I thoroughly do my research and I reach out to people that I know. I feel comfortable talking with them. I can screw up with them and it won’t be a big deal.
Time passes, and I am now on episode 30-something—a friend texts me and he can’t believe that I’ve recorded that many episodes. Neither can I. I can’t even believe that I know that many people!
As the episode count increases, my research becomes less academic and more informal — like I am looking someone up online before a meeting. My interview style begins to feel less structured and more me.
Today, I feel like I can have a conversation with just about anyone. I realize that people just want to be heard and if you ask the right questions and allow space for silence, you arrive somewhere.
Fast forward to February 2026, and I release episode 100—this time I am once again the guest and I am interviewed by a friend and design icon, Rick Valicenti.
The show began as an impulse to record conversations and to talk with people I admire.
I tend to be curious about why people do what they do. I don’t like professional walls or barriers. With this show, I aim to move past those to get to the core of something. I am fascinated by people’s origin stories and the reason behind them choosing a profession that is laborious and one that requires heart and soul. I am also nosey.
Design as a vocation holds a tight grip on the human hand of my guests and myself. It guides us and never turns off. It is like an undiagnosed functional illness. It can be a compulsive practice that paints how we see the world. To us, design intersects everything.
The show focuses on the theory, craft, and practice of graphic design, which I’ve talked about many times—craft being how we do it, theory being why we do it, and practice being the doing.
I believe conversations like these are the resistance against the loneliness that plagues our worlds. The isolation we sometimes feel when we find it hard to connect or accept love. To be heard is to be seen. To be seen is to feel less alone. Maybe that’s what these 100 conversations have really been about—not documentation, but recognition.
Today, we live in a polarizing world—one that can make it hard to see common ground. I believe that wonder is the driving force that can create better worlds—it can take us to a reality that is more just and equitable.
I remember recording the first episode with my friend Patrick Smith. He came to my home and we recorded on my kitchen table. He dropped the microphone and dented the table I had just purchased. The dent is still there, and it functions as a gentle reminder of that marker in time—and also his endearing clumsiness (sorry, not sorry, Patrick).
I don’t talk about this too much, but this podcast is incredibly time-consuming, and there have been personal sacrifices—mostly my time—that go into production. That includes editing, researching, and publishing.
I do this not because I want to be a podcaster. I don’t like that term, and to be honest with you, I don’t even like the word podcast. I generally don’t like pods—or confined spaces. Sometimes I don’t use it at all and will say show instead. Also, I don’t like the word cast because it makes me think of a cast fishing, which fish don’t appreciate.
What I like about this show is that it enables me to learn from others. It’s an education. I treat every conversation as a course, as a lesson, and I carry these lessons with me throughout my creative practice. I’m very thankful for that. Through these conversations, I hope that future generations will be able to look back and taste the pulse of today’s moment and the minds that shape our culture.
I’m also thankful for everyone who’s listened. So thank you.
Insert smiley face emoji here along with that one-hundred emoji as well.
Alright, see you later!