I started with nothing. No identity, no visual language — just a brief to build a luxury furniture and home decor studio from scratch.

Before anything was designed, I had to figure out what the brand actually believed. Avexa isn't about filling rooms. It's about how a room feels when someone has thought carefully about it. Every asset had to carry that before a single product was shot.

The palette came from that idea: burgundy against black and white, greens inside light birch and oak. Vibrant but restrained. Colour that earns its place. Getting that balance right was the hardest call — because if the palette was off, the whole premise collapsed.

Full creative system: identity, Shopify, shoot direction, social, campaigns. One visual logic across all of it. Ongoing as Art Director.

The product was good. Nobody could see it.

Lunet sat on the shelf next to every other coffee brand, making the same gestures. It had nothing that said this is yours to the person who actually cared.

The move was to stop competing on the shelf and build a world instead. Lunet was for people with a ritual around coffee, who notice the difference. The brand needed to reflect that person back at themselves.

Everything changed at once: visual style, tone, captions, the feeling a post left after you scrolled past it. Simple design, considered framing, a voice that was premium without being cold. One job: make you want to sit down and taste it.

300% engagement growth in two months. Foot traffic up. People quoting the brand voice back — which is the only metric that tells you something actually landed.

No brief, no client. Just a question I kept returning to: what does good design actually do for the person looking at it?

The work here is self-directed across different industries, problems, audiences. The through-line is the same: a good interface makes the person on the other side feel something. Landing pages that hold attention. Flows that don't make you think. Experiences that do the convincing before someone has consciously decided to be convinced.

This portfolio is part of that practice. A CV tells you what I've done. A LinkedIn tells you where I've been. Neither shows how I think. That's the gap this site is closing.

This one was personal.

Eternal Lov started from a question I sat with during Covid — about the longing to be loved, to feel it, to hold onto it. The brand was built around that. Not love as a destination but love as something you're always moving toward.

Chapter 1 was soft. Pale blue, handwritten script, learning to lov again across the chest. A quiet admission. Chapter 2 went darker — washed charcoal, two figures holding each other, raw in a way the first chapter wasn't. The brand was finding its range.

I closed it in 2022. The market was saturated and I didn't have the audience to cut through it the way the work deserved. That's the honest answer.

Two things stayed with me: build the community before you drop the product, and before you touch anything, map the emotion first. That instinct started here and still runs everything I do.