Making It Work
Building a creative life that works with my brain
The Spark
My creativity’s never fit neatly into one box.
I’ve been drawn to the intersection of creativity and technology for as long as I can remember. Plugging my VTech Video Painter or Mario Paint into the TV was endlessly exciting. Those big clunky screens with static pops and fuzzy edges somehow made everything feel more magical. I’d spend hours just drawing, experimenting, making things move across the screen, completely lost in it.
Later came MS Paint, and then tools like PaintShop Pro. I was designing anything I could: Winamp skins, wrestling fan sites, custom Counter-Strike tags. I just wanted to make things feel more like mine.
In high school, I took all the creative classes I could, including graphic design. That’s where I met my good friend and longtime collaborator Justin. We’ve been building ideas together in one form or another for over 25 years and now share a studio. The classroom was lined with glowing Apple computers, and to me, it felt like a gateway to a whole new world. It gave structure to all the experimenting I’d been doing alone, and suddenly, it felt like this could actually be something.
Then I discovered Macromedia Flash, and everything aligned. It brought design, animation, and code into one tool, and it gave me complete creative freedom. I obsessed over every detail—timing, performance, how it all felt. These weren’t just websites. They were interactive experiences people could explore. We probably wouldn’t have the attention span for that kind of thing today, but back then, it felt limitless.
That energy carried me into my first design job. I skipped college and jumped straight into agency life, learning everything I could on the fly.
Since then, I’ve designed everything from websites and mobile apps to immersive installations, projection visuals, brand systems, and apparel. I’ve worked with startups, small studios, big brands, and scrappy teams figuring it out as they go.
What’s stayed consistent isn’t the format—it’s that moment of getting lost in an idea, following the spark, and seeing where it leads.
For a long time, I thought that kind of intensity and unpredictability meant something was wrong with me.
Seeing My Brain Clearly for the First Time
It wasn’t until my 30s that I was diagnosed with ADHD.
Before that, I assumed I had bad habits. I thought I was forgetful, disorganized, constantly scrambling. Even when I was producing good work, it felt like I was doing it wrong—like I couldn’t quite work the way everyone else did.
Getting diagnosed didn’t solve everything, but it gave me context. It explained why I couldn’t focus on things that didn’t feel meaningful, but could drop into deep concentration when something did. Why planning and prioritizing felt overwhelming, but once I saw where I was going, I could find a rhythm and see it through.
What I’ve had to learn is how to build a system around that. One that gives me room to follow interest and momentum, while still keeping things sustainable. I’ve gotten better at recognizing when I’m forcing something versus when I’m in flow. I’ve stopped trying to mimic other people’s processes and started shaping my own.
It still takes effort. But it finally feels like I’m working with my brain, not against it.
Moving at the Speed of Curiosity
These days, I split my time between freelance design work, building my own brand RUFF, and chasing all the creative projects floating around in my head. It’s a mix of client work, personal work, and experimental ideas that keep me curious.
RUFF is part studio, part shop, part creative playground. It’s where I get to combine design, illustration, dog obsession, and a rotating list of side quests. I make custom pet portraits, apparel, stickers, and print goods—things I’d actually want to wear or hang on a wall. Sometimes I use traditional tools, but more often now, I collaborate with AI.
AI has become part of how I work. Not as a shortcut, but as a creative tool. It helps me try out ideas I wouldn’t normally chase, experiment faster, and surprise myself in the best way. It’s like brainstorming with a partner who never runs out of energy. And more than anything, it feels like play. That same spark I had with Mario Paint or Flash—the excitement of making something just to see if you can—it’s back.
Freelance work keeps things dynamic. I take on a mix of brand identity, product visuals, creative direction, and illustration. Working across disciplines actually helps me stay engaged. I’ve stopped trying to mimic other people’s workflows. Some projects need structure. Others need space. My job is to listen, respond, and trust my instincts.
The biggest shift has been learning to organize my time and energy around how I actually work. I follow momentum when it shows up and don’t panic when it disappears. I’ve built systems that support my brain, even if they don’t look traditional.
This version of creative life isn’t rigid or polished. But it’s real. And for the first time, it feels like it fits.
Still Figuring It Out
I’m writing this because I want to document the version of creative life I’m building—not just the polished results, but the thinking, experimenting, and wandering that happens along the way.
I’ve spent years trying to work the “right” way. Now I’m more interested in what’s true to me: how I work, how I stay inspired, how I keep going when things get weird or overwhelming.
This space is a place to unpack all of that. I’ll be sharing thoughts on creativity, freelancing, illustration, neurodivergence, tools I’m into, behind-the-scenes from RUFF, and whatever else feels worth exploring. Sometimes it might be focused. Other times, it might be a little all over the place. That’s kind of the point.
If any of this resonated, I’m glad you’re here. I’m figuring it out in public, and I’m hoping this space can help you feel a little more seen in your own process, too.
Catch you later,
Matthew
Note: I collaborated closely with AI throughout the process of this piece—using ChatGPT and MidJourney, continually refining things in an iterative and collaborative process to shape the visuals, the story, and, in many ways, a deeper understanding of myself. It was a creative experience, powered by a blend of technology and human touch.