“You will make symbols for me.”
That’s the word I received in the summer of 2020, sitting on a hotel bed in Los Feliz as Covid raged. The moment itself wasn’t unfamiliar — I follow Jesus, and moments like that come with the territory — but the meaning was. I didn’t yet understand what was being asked of me.
What became clear in the days that followed was this: I’ve always been drawn to meaning and imagery. Words and stories. Drawing and shape. Emblems, icons, and symbols. I love intentional design—layers, throughlines, and purpose — and I realized a symbol sits at the intersection: a thing that stands for far more than itself.
But symbols don’t exist in a vacuum. They reflect the reality in which they’re made — and ours is noisy, overstimulated, and increasingly disconnected from purpose. When we don’t actively shape our identity, something else will do it for us. This is how people wake up in lives they don’t recognize.
Teams have logos. Companies have brands. Countries have flags. Wearing the icon declares allegiance. We believe the same is true of spiritual traits. Forgery exists to paint intentionally — to make symbols that turn inner conviction into something visible.
If that hits you where you live, you’re in the right place.