Aaron Draplin, the dynamic Portland-based designer known for his bold visuals, no-nonsense attitude, and tireless work ethic, has carved out a space in the design industry that is distinctly his own. With the release of his expansive new book Draplin Design Co.: Pretty Much Everything, he offers a full-spectrum look at his creative life—everything from design techniques and client experiences to road stories, sketchbook scans, and the hard lessons of an independent creative path.
Whether it’s building a brand from the ground up, talking shop at a major design conference, or hand-packing Field Notes with the same care he started with, Draplin has earned his place as a beacon of integrity in a world often obsessed with trends and surface gloss.
How His Journey Started—And the Roads That Got Him There
Growing up in the scenic town of Traverse City, Michigan, Aaron Draplin wasn’t immediately on track to become one of the most recognizable independent designers in America. He began with two years at a local community college, then hit the road westward with a bunch of snowboarding buddies, chasing fresh powder and freedom. For five winters, Draplin lived the snowboarder lifestyle—riding all day and taking on seasonal work in Alaska to fund the dream.
Eventually, he found himself drawn back to structured learning. In 1998, he enrolled at the Minneapolis College of Art & Design and dove headfirst into graphic design. Two years later, he was hired by a snowboarding magazine in California—a job that might have looked ideal on paper but quickly turned sour due to corporate constraints and a culture that didn’t align with his values.
Returning to Portland in 2002, he joined Cinco Design for a couple of years before making the life-changing leap into freelancing in 2004. “Going solo was the best move I ever made,” Draplin says. “That freedom, that control… it changed everything.”
Hustle, Passion, and the Freelance Life
Aaron Draplin’s journey through the world of graphic design is defined not by overnight success or viral fame, but by an unrelenting work ethic and a deeply rooted passion for creating. His approach to the design industry has always been different—fueled by personal conviction rather than marketplace trends. He never set out to become famous. Instead, he simply kept working, drawing, building, and shipping. That’s what sets him apart.
For Draplin, graphic design isn’t a compartmentalized job that ends when the office lights go off. It’s a way of life, a full-spectrum identity that seeps into every part of his day. “Design is what gets me out of bed. It’s what I think about when I’m eating breakfast, and it’s what I’m still doing at 11 at night,” he explains. This unshakable commitment to the craft shows up in everything he touches—from logos and album covers to packaging designs and branding campaigns.
Over the course of his career, Draplin has worked on a wide range of projects, both big and small. He’s designed branding for massive corporations and worked for local nonprofits. He’s created artwork for well-known musicians and offered free logo work to friends or causes he believes in. This diversity of projects has helped him maintain balance—balancing profit with passion, professionalism with play, and commerce with craftsmanship.
Perhaps what’s most notable is that he’s managed to maintain this balance while staying independent. He doesn’t rely on a big team or an expansive agency. His creative studio, Draplin Design Co., is purposefully lean and efficient. It’s deeply personal and unapologetically scrappy, embodying his belief that meaningful design doesn’t have to be complicated to be powerful.
Unlike many creatives who chase exposure, virality, or massive clients, Draplin has chosen to pursue authenticity. He values personal relationships, artistic freedom, and long-term trust over fleeting recognition. By keeping his studio nimble and focused, he’s created an ecosystem where creativity thrives without compromise. That rare ability to blend integrity with business acumen is a hallmark of his creative career.
Why Leaving the Agency World Was Liberating
Before going independent, Draplin spent time at Cinco Design, a respected branding studio in Portland. It offered him structure, steady work, and access to large-scale clients. And while he appreciates the experience and the people he worked with, the environment eventually became creatively suffocating.
“It was a good place to learn,” he says, “but at the end of the day, I found myself craving the freedom to make things without layers of approval and corporate jargon. I’d leave work and dive into my own projects—not because I had to, but because I needed to.”
This nightly ritual of working on personal assignments after full days at the studio was more than just decompressing—it was a signal. A signal that the traditional agency life wasn’t fulfilling him in the way that hands-on, self-directed work did. His evenings were full of experimentation, intuition, and design decisions made for their own sake—not filtered through account managers or marketing teams.
The move to freelance wasn’t just about gaining creative freedom. It also came with unexpected economic liberation. Within his first year as an independent designer, Draplin tripled his former salary. More importantly, he controlled his time. He chose the clients he worked with, the timelines he adhered to, and the level of care each project deserved.
Freelance life, for Draplin, was never about glamour or escape. It was about alignment—matching his lifestyle with his values, and matching his work output with his internal creative rhythm. This choice gave him not only autonomy but also a renewed sense of purpose.
How Snowboarding Built His Boldness
Long before Aaron Draplin became a revered name in the design community, he was carving his path—literally—down snow-covered mountains. His early years as a snowboarder shaped more than just his lifestyle; they built the mental framework for how he would later approach creativity and career decisions.
Snowboarding in the 1990s wasn’t the widely accepted sport it is today. Back then, snowboarders were often treated like outsiders on mountains dominated by skiers. “We weren’t welcome,” Draplin recalls. “We had to claim our space. We made our own gear, built our own style, and created our own identity.”
This underdog energy didn’t fade as he transitioned into design. In fact, it became part of his DNA. That DIY ethos—of refusing to wait for permission, of creating regardless of outside validation—permeates his work. It’s why his logos often carry a rugged simplicity. It’s why his posters shout instead of whisper. And it’s why so many designers find his work both inspiring and relatable.
Snowboarding taught Draplin to trust his gut, take risks, and ignore what everyone else was doing. That courage to stand out and that readiness to challenge the norm carried directly into his visual language and professional decisions. Whether he’s developing a visual identity for a national brand or laying out a zine for a local cause, the same fearless spirit guides his hand.
Field Notes: A Pocket-Sized Triumph
One of the most iconic elements of Draplin’s career is his co-creation of Field Notes—a line of simple, beautifully designed notebooks that have become a cultural staple in both the design and stationery worlds. What began as a passion project with Jim Coudal evolved into a brand recognized around the world, appreciated for its tactile feel, vintage-inspired design, and commitment to quality.
But the real triumph of Field Notes isn’t in its commercial success—though that certainly exists. It lies in its philosophy. Field Notes wasn’t born from a market gap or a sales pitch. It was born from a genuine need for something better. “We just wanted a notebook we would actually use,” Draplin explains. “Nothing fancy. Just something real, something we’d be proud to carry.”
This authenticity has resonated deeply with fans. Unlike mass-market notebooks that compromise on material or design for scale, Field Notes has remained true to its roots. No fluff. No filler. Just honest-to-goodness paper, crafted with intention.
And perhaps most importantly, Field Notes has remained independently operated. No corporate overlords dictating design choices. No marketing firm steering the ship. Every decision—down to the ink colors and cover textures—passes through the eyes and hands of the people who actually make the product.
This kind of creative sovereignty is increasingly rare in today’s fast-paced, algorithm-driven marketplace. But Draplin wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’m proud of what we’ve built,” he says. “It’s proof that you can do things your way and still find success.”
Field Notes is more than a notebook—it’s a symbol. A symbol of what can happen when passion leads the way. A reminder that small things, made well and with heart, can carry immense value.
Life on the Speaking Circuit: Lessons and Laughter
For Aaron Draplin, graphic design is more than just vectors and visuals—it’s about connection. That connection is most tangible when he takes to the stage. Over the years, Draplin has become a sought-after speaker at design conferences, universities, and creative gatherings across the country. Averaging more than 40 speaking engagements annually, he’s carved out a reputation not just as a designer but as a magnetic storyteller and teacher.
These talks aren’t highly rehearsed TED-style performances polished to perfection. Instead, they are spontaneous, vulnerable, and full of raw energy. Draplin prefers to present real work, unfiltered thoughts, and the kinds of stumbles and wins that often get left out of glossy portfolios. “People connect with truth, not polish,” he explains. “When I show the ugly sketches, the revisions, the dead ends—I’m giving people the full picture. And that matters.”
He finds immense value in being on the road—not just to speak, but to listen, observe, and experience different creative communities firsthand. In a time where so much communication happens behind screens, Draplin remains committed to face-to-face interactions. Whether he’s at a packed auditorium or a tiny design meetup, he shows up with the same enthusiasm and humility.
From headline events like TEDxPortland and HOW Design Live to lesser-known but equally impactful sessions in small-town auditoriums, his message remains consistent: Work hard. Be honest. Keep showing up. His energetic delivery and relatable insights make him a crowd favorite, but it's his humility and candor that leave a lasting impression.
Choosing Projects with Purpose
One of the most distinctive elements of Aaron Draplin’s design career is his principled approach to choosing which projects he’ll take on. In a creative industry often driven by profit margins and client prestige, Draplin prioritizes alignment with his personal ethics. He’s never been interested in chasing every opportunity that lands in his inbox.
“I’ve turned down jobs that felt off. Cannabis brands, vape logos, anything that made me squirm—I walk away,” he shares. It’s not about judging others’ choices, but about listening to his instincts. That internal compass has guided him away from gigs that might be lucrative but feel creatively or ethically hollow.
This discerning eye doesn’t come from arrogance; it comes from experience. Over time, he’s learned that working on something he can’t stand—even if it pays well—usually leads to frustration and burnout. Draplin prefers to invest his time and energy into work that he believes in, no matter the scale. That could be a project for a global brand, or a visual identity for a friend’s local nonprofit. What matters is trust, clarity, and creative chemistry.
In many ways, this approach is what gives Draplin’s design portfolio its signature character. Each piece is a reflection of his values as much as his visual sensibility. It’s why his work resonates so deeply—it’s authentic.
How He Measures Success
Success in creative careers is often measured by metrics: awards, followers, client lists, press mentions. But Draplin has always taken a more personal, grounded view. When asked if there was a defining moment that signaled he’d “made it,” his answer is surprisingly modest.
“I paid off my house. I helped my parents out. I work with friends. And I sleep well. That’s my version of making it,” he explains. For Draplin, success isn’t about accolades—it’s about stability, fulfillment, and being able to do what he loves every day.
This mindset is a refreshing counterpoint to the hustle culture that dominates much of the design world. He’s not working late to impress anyone. He’s doing it because he genuinely loves the work. His sense of accomplishment is internal, not externally validated.
It’s also worth noting that Draplin never rests on his laurels. Even with a widely recognized name and a successful design practice, he remains focused on the craft, the client, and the outcome. He still sketches on paper. He still answers emails personally. That ongoing dedication to his process is a big part of what keeps his creative engine running.
Championing the Underdogs
Where many designers highlight their most recognizable work—logos for big brands, collaborations with influencers, massive campaigns—Draplin often shines a light on the smaller, scrappier projects. “I love the weird ones,” he says. “The underdogs. The ones where nobody expected much, but we pulled off something awesome.”
These projects often carry the most emotional weight. They may not be featured in glossy design annuals, but they’re filled with heart. Whether it’s a logo for a struggling musician or signage for a local food truck, these jobs give Draplin the chance to use design as a form of uplift. He approaches them with the same rigor and reverence he would for any major corporate client.
It’s in these moments that his creative philosophy truly comes alive. The idea that design isn’t just a service—it’s a tool for transformation. A way to help someone be taken seriously, look professional, or simply feel proud of what they’ve built. That’s the kind of reward that outlasts any paycheck.
Is He Satisfied Creatively?
The short answer is yes. “I don’t need a vacation from my job,” Draplin affirms. “That’s how I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.” For a creative professional, that level of contentment is rare.
His satisfaction doesn’t stem from having the most high-profile clients or the trendiest portfolio—it comes from making things that feel meaningful, being his own boss, and continually finding new ways to challenge himself. That’s the sweet spot for any designer: the freedom to create without compromise.
Of course, the work isn’t always glamorous. There are long nights, difficult revisions, and unpredictable clients. But Draplin embraces all of it. For him, the process is the reward.
Frustrations with the Industry
Even someone as optimistic and driven as Draplin isn’t immune to the frustrations of modern design culture. “Trendy design that changes every six months? I don’t get it,” he admits. “I like stuff that lasts.”
He also takes issue with the negativity that runs rampant online. “There are so many critics who never make anything. They just leave nasty comments. That kind of energy is toxic.”
Rather than engaging with those voices, Draplin focuses on his lane. “I don’t really consider myself part of the industry in a traditional sense,” he explains. “I orbit around it. I dip in when it feels right, but mostly I stay on the fringe.”
This outsider mindset isn’t about isolation—it’s about independence. It allows him to make choices based on intuition rather than industry expectations. It’s also what gives his work such a distinct and enduring quality.
A Look Into His Logo Design Process
When it comes to branding, Draplin brings a meticulous, hands-on approach. “Every logo starts with a conversation,” he says. “I need to know who they are, what they believe in, what they want to communicate.”
From there, he starts sketching—on paper, with pencils, surrounded by coffee cups and reference books. He moves ideas into digital form only after they’ve passed the pencil test. It’s a process rooted in discovery, iteration, and deep listening.
What separates his approach from many contemporary practices is his emphasis on timelessness. Draplin isn’t trying to make something trendy—he’s trying to make something that will still look good 20 years from now. That means clean lines, balanced forms, and a commitment to clarity.
The client collaboration doesn’t end after the first presentation. Draplin believes in a back-and-forth rhythm that refines the concept until it lands just right. “You go back and forth until it feels right,” he says. “And then you keep going until it feels amazing.”
Through this process, he not only delivers effective design but often surprises both himself and his clients. That’s where the real creative magic happens—not in the first draft, but in the space where listening, instinct, and craft converge.
Navigating Design Challenges with Respect
In the ever-evolving world of graphic design, the path from concept to completion is rarely linear. Deadlines shift, clients reconsider directions, and initial ideas morph into unexpected outcomes. For Aaron Draplin, navigating these fluctuations is not a burden—it’s part of the artistry. His secret? Respect, adaptability, and an unwavering dedication to the collaborative nature of design.
Throughout his long-standing freelance design career, Draplin has built a framework that relies heavily on open communication. Instead of resisting change or reacting defensively to client feedback, he treats every revision or critique as a stepping stone to something better. “It’s not about being right,” he says. “It’s about being present and engaged. Listen to your clients. Adapt. Then bring them something they didn’t even know they wanted.”
Design challenges, whether they arise from miscommunication or creative divergence, are approached with patience. Draplin recognizes that many clients aren’t fluent in visual language—they come with hopes and rough visions, not polished briefs. His role is to interpret and translate, not to judge. That empathy allows him to step into their shoes, see from their perspective, and build visual solutions that meet both business needs and emotional resonance.
Rather than resisting the shifting tides of a project, he rides them—using each pivot as a way to refine the message, clarify the brand, and ultimately, craft a solution that feels intentional and memorable. His process is fluid but purposeful, combining instinct with insight.
Collaboration Over Confrontation
The image of the solitary, headstrong designer who insists on their vision at the expense of client needs is outdated—and Draplin proves it. His approach to branding projects and visual identities revolves around humility and mutual respect. “It’s not about forcing your creative ego into the room,” he says. “It’s about elevating the client’s story.”
This mindset informs every aspect of his design workflow. From initial consultation to final delivery, Draplin focuses on being a partner, not a dictator. That doesn’t mean he’s passive or indifferent—far from it. He brings bold ideas, technical expertise, and a clear visual voice. But he recognizes that the brand isn’t his to own—it belongs to the client, their team, and ultimately, their audience.
By positioning himself as a guide rather than a gatekeeper, he opens the door to deeper trust and better outcomes. This approach also allows for richer collaboration, where clients feel empowered to share, question, and challenge in constructive ways.
In practice, this often means offering multiple design options, inviting candid conversations, and being willing to pivot when necessary. It’s a dance between vision and viability—and Draplin knows the steps well.
His ability to balance professional authority with respectful flexibility sets him apart from many in the design industry. Instead of seeing the client as an obstacle, he sees them as a co-author in the creative narrative.
The Book That Almost Broke Him (In a Good Way)
For many creatives, compiling a portfolio is a chance to curate and celebrate. For Aaron Draplin, publishing Pretty Much Everything was an all-consuming act of documentation, reflection, and vulnerability. “That book almost did me in,” he admits. “But I’m glad I did it. It’s all in there—warts and all.”
Released as a comprehensive visual anthology, the book goes far beyond standard graphic design showcases. It’s a tactile journey through his creative evolution, brimming with illustrations, logos, posters, sketches, road stories, and even handwritten notes. Draplin didn’t want to present a sanitized version of his work—he wanted to capture the grit, the process, and the messiness that often gets lost in polished case studies.
Each page reveals a different layer of his career: early Field Notes mock-ups, rejected logo versions, personal passion projects, and the minutiae of running a one-person design operation. It’s as much a resource for young designers as it is a memoir of a creative life lived loudly and with intention.
What made the book especially challenging was the emotional weight behind the work. Draplin poured years of experience, mistakes, breakthroughs, and losses into its pages. It became a mirror, reflecting not just the milestones of his career, but the ethos behind every decision.
The result is something rare in the design publishing world—a book that doesn’t pretend, doesn’t inflate, and doesn’t follow trends. It simply tells the truth. And that, in itself, is a radical act.
What Portland Means to Him
Portland, Oregon isn’t just the backdrop to Aaron Draplin’s story—it’s part of his identity. Though the city has transformed dramatically over the past two decades, Draplin’s connection to its creative undercurrent remains intact. While others chase the emerging tech hubs or corporate cities, he’s chosen to stay grounded in Portland’s offbeat rhythm.
“The city’s changing fast,” he acknowledges. “More condos, more traffic, more noise. But I’m still here, still digging through records, still walking the same old streets.” This nostalgic yet committed viewpoint reflects a deeper philosophy: that staying rooted allows for deeper work.
In a city often idealized for its eccentricities and artistic freedom, Draplin has found a physical and cultural home. Portland’s creative landscape has long thrived on community-driven events, collaborative studios, and independent makers—and Draplin’s ethos fits neatly into that ecosystem.
Yet he’s quick to point out that it hasn’t always been easy. Rising rents, gentrification, and the influx of high-speed lifestyles have tested his patience. Still, he chooses to stay in what he calls “the creative muck”—working from his shop, interacting with his community, and producing things that reflect the soul of the place.
His loyalty to Portland isn’t about blind nostalgia. It’s about honoring a place that gave him room to grow and create on his own terms. Even as new businesses take over and tech startups crowd the skyline, Draplin holds on to what matters most: authenticity, connection, and creative freedom.
He doesn’t chase what’s shiny and new. He sticks with what’s meaningful. In Portland, he’s found a space where he can work at his own pace, where hustle doesn’t overshadow purpose, and where making things by hand still holds value.
Why He Stays Small by Design
In an industry that often celebrates rapid growth and scaling, Aaron Draplin has made a deliberate and conscious choice to remain a solo operator. His decision to keep his design practice small is not born out of hesitation or fear but from a deep understanding of what works best for his creative process and lifestyle. “I don’t want to wake up to endless meetings or listen to corporate buzzwords,” Draplin says plainly. “I want the freedom to wake up when I’m ready and dive headfirst into the projects that truly ignite my passion.”
Staying small allows him to retain full control over the work he produces, the clients he collaborates with, and the day-to-day rhythm of his creative life. This approach rejects the conventional narrative that equates success with expansion, bigger offices, or a larger team. For Draplin, success is intimately tied to autonomy and the joy found in hands-on creation.
Remaining a one-person design studio means Draplin can structure his workdays around flow and inspiration rather than schedules imposed by others. This freedom enables him to take creative risks, pivot quickly when needed, and dedicate focused energy to the projects that resonate most deeply with him. In a world that glorifies busyness, Draplin’s choice stands as a testament to the power of intentionality and thoughtful design entrepreneurship.
Rejecting the Pressure to Scale
The creative industry often equates “bigger” with “better.” Agencies grow, teams expand, and the pressure to scale can feel overwhelming. Yet Draplin has looked behind the curtain and discovered a different reality. “Growth usually means layers of complexity,” he explains. “More people to manage, more politics, more emails, and more meetings that pull you away from actual design work. I’ve tried scaling up before, and honestly, it just isn’t for me.”
For many freelance designers and small studios, the temptation to expand is strong. Bigger teams often come with bigger budgets, higher-profile clients, and increased visibility. However, with that growth comes a loss of creative control and often, a dilution of the original vision that sparked the business.
Draplin’s experience shows that bigger isn’t always better. The trade-off between creative freedom and organizational complexity is steep. By keeping his practice lean, he avoids the bureaucratic pitfalls that can stifle innovation and lead to burnout. Instead, he remains nimble, responsive, and personally invested in every project, no matter how big or small.
This mindset not only preserves his creative energy but also fosters deeper client relationships. Working solo allows for direct communication without filters or layers of management, which enhances clarity, efficiency, and mutual respect.
Tailoring a Business to Fit the Person
Central to Draplin’s philosophy is the belief that a business should serve the person behind it—not the other way around. This principle drives his decisions and daily practices. “I know what I’m good at, and I stick to that,” he says. “I’ve built a design life that fits me like a glove.”
For many creative professionals, there is immense pressure to conform to industry expectations, chase the next trend, or grow at all costs. Draplin’s approach is refreshingly different: prioritize personal strengths and design a professional life around them. This bespoke model of creative entrepreneurship is about understanding one’s own capacities, preferences, and limits.
By focusing on what feels natural and fulfilling, Draplin sustains his enthusiasm and prevents the fatigue that often accompanies overextension. He crafts a business ecosystem that supports his style, creative impulses, and lifestyle choices rather than forcing himself into a generic model of success.
This self-tailored business model encourages other freelancers and creatives to ask essential questions: What kind of work energizes you? How much control do you want over your process? What balance between work and life feels sustainable? Answering these honestly can lead to a more satisfying and enduring career.
The Case for Staying a One-Man Shop
Despite being encouraged repeatedly by peers and industry insiders to hire staff and scale his business, Draplin remains resolutely independent. “Every time I bring someone on and try to train them, I find myself redoing their work in the end,” he admits. “That’s frustrating. I’d rather just get my hands dirty and do the work myself.”
This admission highlights a common challenge in creative freelancing and entrepreneurship: the tension between delegation and quality control. For many solo designers, handing off creative tasks can feel like relinquishing the very essence of their craft. Draplin’s story resonates because it underscores the importance of mastery and personal touch in design work.
Working solo also means fewer distractions and administrative overhead. Draplin controls his workflow, his deadlines, and his creative standards without compromise. While this may limit the volume of work he can take on, it significantly enhances the quality and satisfaction he derives from each project.
For creative professionals who fear losing their artistic voice in bigger teams, Draplin’s experience offers reassurance: staying small doesn’t mean stagnation. It can mean refinement, precision, and a deeply rewarding creative practice.
His Three Rules for New Designers
Aaron Draplin’s extensive experience has distilled into three simple yet powerful pieces of advice for emerging designers seeking to build sustainable, fulfilling careers.
One: Don’t ignore your taxes. The financial side of freelance design is often overlooked or mishandled by newcomers. Draplin warns, “Save a chunk from every payment—about 30 to 35 percent—because taxes will bite you later if you’re not prepared.” Sound financial management is a cornerstone of creative independence and reduces stress down the line, allowing designers to focus on their work rather than unexpected bills.
Two: Keep the fun alive. The creative industry can sometimes be fraught with burnout, cynicism, and toxic attitudes. Draplin encourages designers to actively avoid people or situations that drain their joy. “You’ll meet plenty of folks who make design miserable. Don’t be one of them, and don’t stay in their orbit.” Preserving passion and enthusiasm is essential for longevity in the creative field.
Three: Work on things you actually care about. Prestige, big-name clients, or flashy projects may look impressive on a resume, but passion fuels perseverance. Draplin emphasizes, “If you work on stuff that matters to you, your enthusiasm shows. Passion always takes you further than prestige ever could.” This advice advocates for aligning personal values and interests with professional work to foster genuine creativity and fulfillment.
Final Thoughts
Aaron Draplin’s story is more than just a career timeline or a list of projects—it’s a full-on case study in how to build a meaningful, resilient, and fulfilling creative life. In an industry often obsessed with growth, scale, awards, and viral moments, Draplin offers a refreshing alternative: stay small, stay honest, stay passionate.
What sets him apart isn’t just his impressive output or instantly recognizable style—it’s his unwavering commitment to being human in everything he does. He’s not chasing the next trend, the flashiest client, or the biggest budget. Instead, he’s guided by the power of personal connection, functional design, and a deep love for his craft. Whether he’s designing a logo for a local business, producing a limited edition Field Notes release, or speaking in front of thousands of creatives, his approach is the same: put in the work, stay humble, and keep it fun.
There’s a valuable lesson here for every aspiring designer, freelancer, or creative entrepreneur: you don’t have to follow someone else’s idea of success. You can carve your own path, based on your values, skills, and goals. Draplin’s career is proof that you can reject the pressure to scale, avoid industry burnout, and still create work that resonates—both commercially and emotionally.
He reminds us that fulfillment doesn’t come from the size of your studio or the prestige of your client list. It comes from waking up excited to create, being proud of your output, and knowing your work is rooted in purpose. It comes from working with friends, honoring your instincts, and having the guts to walk away from projects that don’t feel right.
In a world full of overcomplication, Draplin keeps it simple—and that’s what makes his voice so powerful. He is, at heart, a working-class designer with world-class standards. His journey isn’t about chasing fame or fortune—it’s about showing up, day after day, doing the damn work, and loving every step of the process. That’s a creative legacy worth emulating.
