The Chairman Declines the Funding
You slide the contract back across the mahogany. The men in fleece vests look at it like it's a piece of fruit they've never seen. Their wealth, for the moment, is a historical relic. They don't know this yet.
Hello.
I'm Oz, a designer of things...
This is my signal space for a noisy mind
It's April 17th, 6:04pm here in Montréal.
Clouds are drifting and we're 29% through the year.
Hope your day's going well, wherever you are.
Short essays on design and culture, small tools I built to scratch specific itches, street photography from Montréal and beyond, graphic design that runs on spoof and satire, and colour palettes collected over twenty years. New notes land when something clicks. New projects ship when they're ready to stand on their own. The galleries grow whenever a walk produces something worth keeping.
I write about the overlooked, the contradictory, and the quietly absurd.
You slide the contract back across the mahogany. The men in fleece vests look at it like it's a piece of fruit they've never seen. Their wealth, for the moment, is a historical relic. They don't know this yet.
Trotsky arrived in New York in 1917 as a committed anti-capitalist and left having written one of the sharpest descriptions of the city's force. A comedian delivers comfort for decades, then you learn something. The question is the same: whether something valuable can come from a source you would otherwise reject.
Haptic research found that button vibration intensity changes how people feel, not just what they do. Colour studies in rough-sea control rooms, scent experiments in vehicle cockpits. The emotional layer of interaction was never part of the spec, but it was always part of the experience.
I build minimal tools and run small experiments.
I capture imperfect artistry, and people caught being themselves.
I create visual concepts and explorations that speak through spoof and satire.
I mix colours until something feels right, then I keep them, sometimes for decades.