Legacy in Design
The Story Behind Linwood Creative
For years, I struggled to define what felt authentically “me” as a designer. Being exposed to inspiration on a daily basis meant my taste was constantly evolving, and every time I thought I’d found my own aesthetic, it shifted again. I found myself full of ideas that didn’t truly resonate with who I am. It wasn’t until I looked backward that I realized what would never change: my roots.
I named my studio Linwood Creative after my grandfather, Linwood (or Elgy, as many knew him). He passed away when I was young, but his influence never truly left me. He was gentle and stoic, yet full of personality once you got to know him—the kind of person who saw beauty in the smallest of moments. One of my favorite photographed memories is of us in my childhood backyard, picking flowers together. He’d hold one up to the light and ask what I thought—always curious, always noticing. Those memories became the seed of my personal brand: a reminder that good design starts with seeing and feeling deeply.
When I finally built Linwood Creative, I wanted every part of it to carry a piece of his story. My logomark sits inside a decorative frame—a nod to the old photographs I have of him, and to the idea of preserving something fleeting and precious. My color palette mixes vintage hues, blending masculine and feminine, warm and cool, earth and air. To me, it feels like both of us: sentimental and timeless, yet alive.
Even the typography plays with duality—a classic serif with subtle flourishes, balancing elegance with practicality. It wasn’t a deliberate choice in the moment, but in hindsight, it feels particularly appropriate. The entire brand became a dialogue between who I am now and the ones who came before me.
At its core, Linwood Creative isn’t just a name—it’s a steadfast philosophy. It’s about designing with meaning, honoring memories, and building something enduring. Legacy doesn’t have to mean looking backward or living in the past; it can mean creating something today that was shaped by those before you and will last long beyond you.
I think of my grandfather often when I work—not always in a literal way, but in the quiet standards he set for me: to care, to notice, and to make things that matter. He’s the reason I exist, the reason my studio exists, and the reason I believe every good brand begins with a story worth remembering.
