Category: Uncategorized

  • Graphic Elements 101

    Maybe More Will Come Out of This

    At the beginning of any design journey, there’s uncertainty. We collect scattered references, sit through lectures that feel abstract at first, and stare at blank artboards hoping something will click. But slowly, through repetition and reflection, things begin to take shape. This semester, I’ve started to understand that design education is less about mastering tools or producing polished outcomes and more about questioning the world—and seeing what emerges in response.

    Design, we’re learning, is not just about making things look good. It’s about making things mean something. The foundation of our course isn’t purely technical; it’s conceptual. We’re encouraged to view design as a practice of transformation—of culture, of environment, and of ourselves.


    Common Objectives

    Our course asks us to consider a series of bigger questions:
    What is design for? Who is it for? What systems are we working within—and how can we challenge them?

    We’re learning how to think like designers, not just act like them. That means engaging with the process as a rational, iterative way of reshaping reality. Whether working through typography exercises or speculative projects, we’re being pushed to make intentional choices and think critically. The emphasis isn’t on quick answers—it’s on long-term questions.

    The goals are ambitious but necessary:

    • To integrate social and environmental awareness into everything we do.
    • To stimulate creative responses to current realities.
    • To develop the curiosity and skepticism needed to ask better questions of the world.
    • To become fluent in the languages of design—visual, typographic, critical.

    Two-Dimensional Thinking

    In the two-dimensional component of our studies, we’ve begun to explore graphic design not as decoration, but as communication. We’re asking: What does design say, and how does it say it?

    Through exercises in typography, composition, and image-making, we’re not just learning tools—we’re learning tone. We’re developing visual narratives and beginning to understand how form can express intention. Even something as “simple” as a letterform becomes an expressive tool.

    Our readings and lectures remind us that every poster, publication, or interface we design sits within a larger system of meaning. Graphic design is cultural, contextual, and political. It both shapes and reflects the world.

    We’re also learning to use software as part of a broader conversation. Vector drawing, image editing, and layout tools are valuable—but only when guided by research, narrative clarity, and ethical consideration. We’re taught to question the how and the why.


    What Design Might Be

    One of the most challenging and rewarding aspects of this course has been speculative thinking. Instead of simply responding to given problems, we’re sometimes asked to invent them. What if a design project didn’t have a clear answer? What if its purpose wasn’t to solve but to provoke?

    This way of working pushes us to stop chasing perfection and start engaging with possibility.

    When we allow ourselves to be uncomfortable, when we design without knowing exactly where we’ll end up—that’s when something interesting happens. Maybe more comes out of it than we expected.


    Moving Forward

    There’s still a long way to go. We’re just beginning to map out what design can mean for each of us personally and professionally. But the values are clear: thoughtful research, intentional communication, ethical responsibility, and a willingness to experiment.

    This isn’t about arriving at answers—it’s about learning how to look, how to think, and how to respond.

    Maybe more will come out of this.
    And maybe that’s the point.

  • Design Books I Read This Year (and others)

    This year, I committed to reading more design books—not just for technical knowledge, but to deepen my thinking and challenge how I approach my creative practice. Some books were theoretical, others practical. Some inspired me, and others frustrated me (which is good too).

    Here’s a recap of the most impactful design books I read this year—and what each taught me:


    1. The Design of Everyday Things by Don Norman

    Key takeaway: Design is about how things work—not just how they look.

    💡 What I learned:
    This book shifted how I look at interfaces, door handles, packaging—everything. Norman breaks down usability with humor and clarity, reminding me that poor design isn’t the user’s fault. The idea of affordances became something I now actively observe in objects around me.


    2. How to Be a Graphic Designer Without Losing Your Soul by Adrian Shaughnessy

    Key takeaway: The creative industry is as much about ethics and independence as it is about visuals.

    💬 Memorable moment:
    Shaughnessy’s honesty about freelancing, burnout, and navigating commercial work helped me feel seen. His interviews with other designers offered real-life insights that aren’t sugarcoated—and that’s refreshing.


    3. Design as Art by Bruno Munari

    Key takeaway: Design lives in the small, poetic gestures of everyday life.

    🎯 Application:
    This short but powerful book made me reconnect with playfulness in design. Munari celebrates minimalism and simplicity without being rigid, and it inspired me to embrace experimentation in sketching and prototyping.


    4. Thinking with Type by Ellen Lupton

    Key takeaway: Typography isn’t decoration—it’s structure, rhythm, and voice.

    🔤 What I changed:
    Before reading this, I approached type instinctively. Now, I notice spacing, hierarchy, and alignment much more consciously. Lupton’s diagrams and exercises helped me better understand grids and font pairing.


    5. Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things by William McDonough & Michael Braungart

    Key takeaway: Sustainable design goes far beyond recycling—it requires rethinking entire systems.

    🌍 Why it matters:
    This book brought an environmental lens to my thinking. It made me question not just what I make, but how and why. I now consider material lifespan and impact much earlier in my design process.


    ✍️ Why I Read Design Books

    Design isn’t just aesthetics—it’s systems thinking, culture, behavior, and ethics. These books helped me:

    • Build a critical lens when analyzing visual communication
    • Feel more confident articulating design decisions
    • Connect my practice with broader social and ecological themes
    • Break out of “style traps” and explore deeper conceptual approaches

    📚 What’s Next on My List

    I’m not done yet—here’s what I want to read next:

    • Grid Systems in Graphic Design by Josef Müller-Brockmann
    • Now You See It and Other Essays on Design by Michael Bierut
    • Speculative Everything by Anthony Dunne & Fiona Raby
    • Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher (for contextual thinking)
  • The Value Of a Replica

    Inspired by John Berger’s “Ways of Seeing”

    In a world flooded with images—copies, reposts, remixes, screenshots—we rarely stop to ask: What is the value of the original? Or better yet, what is the value of a replica?

    Reading John Berger’s Ways of Seeing this year shifted how I think about the relationship between image and meaning. Berger argues that “the way we see things is affected by what we know or what we believe.” It sounds simple, but the implications are profound—especially when we consider how images are endlessly reproduced in the digital age.


    Reproduction Changes Everything

    Berger expands on Walter Benjamin’s notion of the aura—the unique, irreplaceable presence of an artwork in time and space. A painting in a museum carries with it ritual, history, and status. But what happens when that same painting is reproduced in a textbook, a postcard, or an Instagram story?

    It changes.
    The context shifts.
    The meaning transforms.

    A replica democratizes access—but also detaches the artwork from its original setting and significance.

    In Berger’s words:

    “The meaning of an image can be changed according to what you see beside it or what comes after it.”


    So… Does a Replica Have Less Value?

    That depends on how we define value.

    If value means authenticity, the replica falls short.
    If value means access, communication, or influence, then replicas might be even more powerful than the original.

    In design, reproduction is not an afterthought—it is the point. We don’t create one version of a poster, publication, or website. We create systems meant to be printed, reposted, resized, reinterpreted. Our work lives through its iterations.

    So maybe the question isn’t about whether the original or the copy is more valuable, but about how the act of copying reshapes what we see and how we understand it.


    The Designer’s Dilemma

    Designers are often taught to pursue originality—to create something new, something unseen. But design is inherently referential. We work with grids, typefaces, templates, systems. Every choice we make is part of a larger visual lineage.

    To design is to work within structures while also questioning them.

    We rely on what came before, but reinterpret it for a new context. We remix, we respond, we reframe. The value lies not just in originality, but in awareness—of meaning, of medium, of message.


    Final Thought

    Reading Ways of Seeing reminded me that perception is never neutral. Every image, whether original or reproduced, carries layers of meaning shaped by context, culture, and intention.

    A replica is not a lesser version—it’s a new encounter. Sometimes, it even speaks louder than the original.

    As artists and designers, we live in a world of replicas. But it’s up to us to assign meaning, to think critically about what we create, and to question how we see.

    The value of a replica is not in its fidelity—but in its possibility.

  • Copyright, Trademark, etc.

    If you’re an artist—whether you draw, design, photograph, write, or make anything original—chances are you’ve asked yourself:

    “How do I stop people from stealing my work?”

    That’s where copyright, trademark, and a few other legal tools come in. And no—you don’t need to be a lawyer to understand the basics.

    In this post, I’m breaking it down clearly and simply so you can protect your work, know your rights, and feel more confident sharing what you create.


    ✍️ What Is Copyright?

    Copyright protects original creative work—like drawings, designs, writing, music, illustrations, photography, and even digital content.

    Here’s the good news:
    As soon as you create something and record it in a fixed way (like saving a file, drawing in a sketchbook, or exporting a PDF), it’s automatically protected by copyright. You don’t need to register it (though in some countries like the US, registering makes enforcement easier).

    Copyright gives you the right to:

    • Copy and reproduce your own work
    • Show it publicly
    • Sell or license it
    • Prevent others from copying or using it without permission

    If someone uses your work without asking—they’re violating your copyright.


    🖼️ What Copyright Doesn’t Protect

    There are limits. Copyright doesn’t protect:

    • Ideas or concepts (only their expression)
    • Styles or techniques
    • Facts or systems
    • Names, logos, or slogans (these fall under trademark)

    So yes—you can’t copyright “your vibe,” but you can protect specific works that express it.


    ™️ What Is a Trademark?

    If you’re building a brand—even a small art studio, a shop, or an online identity—you’ll want to look into trademarks.

    trademark protects names, logos, slogans, and symbols that represent your brand identity.

    Example:

    • Your signature logo? Trademark it.
    • A unique name for your print shop or clothing label? Trademark it.

    Unlike copyright, you must apply for a trademark with an official government office. In Europe, that’s EUIPO, and in the U.S., it’s USPTO.


    🎨 Moral Rights: Respecting the Artist

    In many countries (especially in Europe), moral rights protect your personal relationship with your artwork.

    These include:

    • The right to be credited as the author
    • The right to prevent distortion, alteration, or misuse of your work
    • The right to object to offensive or inappropriate contexts

    Even if someone buys your work, they can’t present it as theirs—or alter it in ways that damage your reputation.


    🔒 How to Protect Your Work as an Artist

    Here are some practical steps you can take:

    ✔ Add a simple copyright notice to your works (e.g., © Your Name 2025)
    ✔ Keep your original files, sketches, and timestamps
    ✔ Use watermarks or low-res previews when publishing online
    ✔ Create clear contracts or licenses when collaborating or selling
    ✔ Don’t remix or repost someone else’s work unless it’s licensed or public domain


    😠 What If Someone Steals My Work?

    Unfortunately, it happens. If someone uses your work without permission:

    1. Reach out directly – Sometimes it’s ignorance, not theft.
    2. File a takedown – Most platforms (Instagram, Etsy, YouTube, etc.) have copyright violation forms.
    3. Consult a lawyer – Especially if your work is being used for profit or repeatedly misused.

    The sooner you act, the better.


    💡 Final Thought: Know Your Value

    Understanding your rights is a form of creative empowerment. You don’t need to be afraid to share your work—you just need to protect it smartly.

    As artists, we deserve to feel safe in expressing ourselves. Knowing how to guard your ideas doesn’t mean being rigid—it means respecting your time, effort, and talent.

  • Form vs Function vs Form

    In our university journey as design students, we are constantly challenged to question everything we thought we knew about objects, their purpose, and the way we experience them. The unit we’re currently studying, which focuses on the tri-dimensional aspects of design, forces us to reframe our perceptions. It’s no longer about simply creating something “beautiful” or “useful.” Instead, we are learning to think through making—to explore, deconstruct, and reconstruct objects as systems of meaning.

    The unit is divided into two major themes: Form vs Function and Function vs Form, and this division reflects two very different but deeply intertwined ways of seeing and designing.

    Form vs Function: Interpreting the Object

    In this first phase, we examine objects as they exist in the world. This is a theoretical and practical exploration where we analyze utility in all its dimensions—what does it mean for something to be useful? Is obsolescence a failure of function or a product of shifting social values?

    We’re asked to read the object, to see beyond its aesthetic or ergonomic qualities. A broken chair, for example, might still “function” as a cultural artifact or a provocation. Through critical analysis, we explore the tension between form, function, and the way objects actually work in practice.

    Books like “The Design of Everyday Things” by Don Norman offer a foundational lens for this kind of reading. Norman talks about affordances and user-centered design, but as we learn, not every object reveals its purpose easily. Some mislead; others resist interpretation. This opens up fascinating territory for critical writing and reflection—what makes an object readable? When does function become a performance rather than a utility?

    We also engage with visual representation in design—how we translate an object’s function into diagrams, drawings, and models. Language matters, and we’re discovering that the tools we use to describe and classify things shape how we understand them.

    Function vs Form: Inventing the Object

    Then comes the inversion—Function vs Form. Now, we’re no longer reading objects, we’re making them. But here’s the twist: we must invent function first, without relying on pre-determined forms. It’s harder than it sounds.

    This unit is hands-on, experimental, and often frustrating. We work with materials directly, exploring their plastic, tactile, and structural qualities through trial and error. There’s no blueprint. We learn through doing—cutting, gluing, folding, failing. And with each attempt, we refine both our ideas and our craft.

    This process reveals how deeply embedded formal habits are. It’s difficult not to default to what we’ve seen before, but the exercises demand originality. We are challenged to create objects that propose new ways of interacting with the world, not just new aesthetics. Books like “Formless” by Yve-Alain Bois and Rosalind Krauss help us think beyond the traditional binaries and consider what it means for something to lack form or resist categorization entirely.

    Critical Reflection as Design Practice

    What I find most exciting—and most difficult—is how this course pushes us to write critically alongside making. We don’t just make objects, we reflect on them, frame them, and position them within broader systems of meaning. Writing becomes a design tool, a way to articulate intention and provoke dialogue.

    We are not only learning the physical construction of objects but also the construction of meaning through visual language, context, and narrative. As we move into the 2D components—typography, image, and composition—we begin to see how communication design and product design are not separate realms, but parts of a continuum.

    This integrated approach makes us more thoughtful, more critical, and more intentional as designers. We don’t just solve problems—we learn to question the problem itself.

  • Why a Blog, Though?

    You might be wondering why I’ve decided to start a blog in 2023 when it seems like the fever of blogging has come and gone? It’s true that social media platforms and video content have dominated the internet in recent years, but that doesn’t mean that blogging has lost its relevance or value. In fact, there are plenty of reasons why starting a blog in 2023 can be a wise and worthwhile adventure.

    On another note, a blog would allow me the perfect opportunity to embrace all the roles I’ve always wanted to engage in a project: researcher, writer, interviewer, photographer, and designer. Most importantly, it grants me the freedom to share what I want. I don’t need to abide by the rules of another platform. This corner of the internet is all mine.

    Finally, why write? Why not Youtube or TikTok? Two reasons. First, because I’m getting stupid. We all are. I believe that our society is becoming increasingly reliant on consuming fast-paced content with little regard for the written word. We are reading less and less, and that feels like a problem to me. A study conducted in 2020 showed that only 68% of Portuguese people claimed to have read at least one book in the last year, while 23% said they had not read any books. This is frightening, especially given the rich Portuguese literature we so proudly share with the world, but we are wasting it.

    Secondly, I love to write. I express myself in a completely different way. Because I enjoy reading, I want to improve my writing skills. It can only benefit me. I’ve noticed an increase in my grammatical errors, despite considering myself a fairly good writer. However, I don’t want to become reliant on artificial intelligence to write for me and automatically correct my mistakes. While I see great potential in using AI as a search resource, I refuse to believe it will ever surpass the capacity of human creativity.

    With that being said, I think an introduction is in order. My name is Marta and I’m currently a student of multimedia art and design. In the year 2023, I decided to take the leap and start my own blog. Given my field of study, you can expect to find articles on design and cinema, as well as other topics of interest, such as music, food, books, and personal experiences. In other words, this is my journal.

    Thank you for reading 🙂

    Marta