The design world has always been a dynamic blend of innovation and introspection, but recent years have reshaped its very foundation. The global pandemic did more than upend lives; it disrupted the cadence of collaboration, shutting down studios, quieting once-vibrant offices, and dissolving the face-to-face energy of brainstorming sessions. For many young designers hoping to break into the industry, the momentum stalled. Graduation ceremonies and final shows were cancelled, networking events turned into Zoom fatigue, and junior design roles seemed to vanish into thin air. What should have been a time of excitement and growth transformed into a limbo filled with hesitation and silence.
Amid this landscape of uncertainty, something quietly powerful began to unfold. Freelance design director David Moloney, well-versed in the rhythms and ruptures of the design profession, began posing a timely question to some of the most respected voices in the field: “In this unfamiliar era, with so many barriers to entry, what guidance would you give to the next wave of designers? How do you make it in this new now?”
The response was not only immediate but deeply felt. The wisdom that poured in was raw, insightful, and unmistakably human. What started as a question grew into a movementa striking and imaginative project named MakingIt21. Rather than simply compiling quotes in a static format, Moloney reimagined them as 21 animated typographic posters, each charged with energy and intention. The animations didn’t just deliver advice; they embodied it. Words moved with purpose, mascots danced, and messages pulsed with emotion. These visual compositions became declarations of resilience, capturing not only the essence of what it means to design in challenging times but also offering emotional lifelines to those standing at the precipice of their professional lives.
These are not just aesthetically pleasing animations. Each poster is a small stage where typography and character design converge to perform wisdom. The movement breathes life into static thought, making each quote not just readable but unforgettable. The animations invite viewers to pause, absorb, and find courage. They're not only motivational toolsthey're acts of care.
Among the contributors, David Ormondroyd’s message strikes a deeply liberating chord: “You can't really do anything wrong.” At first glance, it might sound overly simplistic, but at its core, it dismantles the fear that often cripples creativity. In an industry where imposter syndrome is rampant and perfectionism can lead to paralysis, these words serve as a reminder that growth comes from action, not from the illusion of flawless beginnings. Mistakes are not missteps; they're part of the dance.
Typographic Posters That Speak, Move, and Heal
The idea behind MakingIt21 was never just to archive advice. It was to elevate it, animate it, and make it feel as alive as the emotions it’s meant to soothe. That’s what gives the project its unique soul. Each animated poster doesn’t simply exist for visual appealit delivers a visceral experience. From the subtle bounce of a letterform to the wild antics of its accompanying mascots, every movement is considered, every transition purposeful. The animation turns wisdom into a multisensory message that lingers long after the screen fades to black.
Take Aporva Baxi’s simple but resonant directive: “Design with optimism.” In a world still reeling from loss and disruption, such a statement feels both audacious and essential. Optimism in design is not about naiveté or blind positivity. It’s about having faith in the process, believing that design can make a difference, even in fractured times. It’s about creating with the intent to heal, uplift, and push forward. In an era marked by crisis, optimism becomes a radical design tool, shaping not only projects but perspectives.
Then there is Craig Oldham, whose words arrive like a thunderclap: “Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Never ask for permission.” His contribution stands as a manifesto of autonomy and authenticity. Oldham isn’t advocating for rebellion without reason, but for truth-telling as a foundational design principle. In his longer reflections, he touches on the importance of staying grounded in personal integrity. His message challenges emerging designers to resist the pull of trends and algorithm-driven validation, to instead chart their course with clarity and conviction.
This underlying theme of inner truth is what ties the project together. In a time when digital metrics often determine success and visibility, the emphasis on voice, value, and vulnerability feels refreshingly honest. Good design, the project asserts, doesn’t come from chasing trends but from holding onto what matters and expressing it with courage. It’s about crafting work that speaks because it is grounded in real experience and genuine intention.
Each contributor offers a unique window into this philosophy. Studio Build presents a piece that feels more like a quiet challenge than a gentle nudge. Their visual message underscores the importance of staying true to one’s values, even when the industry’s demands push toward compromise. Their contribution blends precision with emotional clarity, showing how thoughtful design can reflect personal conviction without losing accessibility.
Nomad takes a slightly different route, infusing their poster with cinematic flair. They lean into the emotional side of design, using their visual language to remind newcomers that storytelling is a vital skill. It’s not just about visual impact; it’s about the feelings a piece can evoke and the narrative it can carry. In a saturated world of visuals, the ability to create meaningful, memorable experiences becomes a superpower.
A Living Archive of Empathy, Encouragement, and Design Culture
Perhaps what sets MakingIt21 apart from countless design initiatives is its balance of polish and play. The addition of mascotsquirky, cheerful little characters that accompany each animated quoteintroduces an element of whimsy that transforms the serious into the accessible. These mascots are more than visual garnish. They are conduits of comfort, offering levity in the midst of hard truths. Like miniature mentors, they act out the spirit of the advice they accompany, whether it’s waving hello with gusto or spinning with delight, breaking the fourth wall between design and audience.
In doing so, they subtly shift the tone of professional advice from formal and distant to personal and welcoming. This accessibility is crucial for the project’s core audienceyoung designers feeling alienated, anxious, and unsure of their place in the field. The mascots remind us that even in moments of uncertainty, it’s okay to smile, to play, and to let go of perfection.
The list of contributors further elevates the project into something iconic. With voices from renowned studios like Spin and Hey, and individual design luminaries such as Camille Walala and Morag Myerscough, the project represents a rich tapestry of experience and aesthetic diversity. Each voice adds nuance to the collective chorus, reinforcing a profound truth: there is no single formula for success in design. The paths are many, the journeys diverse, and the stories refreshingly different.
This mosaic of perspectives reinforces a central takeaway: the design world is not a gated space with one key. It’s an open terrain where individuality, persistence, and emotional intelligence matter just as much as technical expertise. MakingIt21 becomes a lighthouse for those navigating this terrain, offering direction without dictation, inspiration without prescription.
Moloney envisions a future where these moving pieces extend their reach beyond digital screens. Plans are underway to transform the animated posters into printed postcardsa gesture that bridges the gap between motion and memory, offering something tangible for those entering the field. In an increasingly virtual world, the physicality of a postcard feels almost sacred, a keepsake that holds a whisper of encouragement from a seasoned voice. It also suggests a broader goal: to make design dialogue more human, more touchable, and more lasting.
More than just a project, MakingIt21 functions as a living, breathing anthology of hope. It is a reminder that even in times of disruption, design remains a powerful force for connection and change. It’s not only about what you create, but about how you think, how you feel, and how you choose to move forward.
As the design world continues to evolve and reinvent itself, MakingIt21 stands as both a snapshot and a forecast. It captures the fragility and strength of this particular moment while projecting a future built on empathy, community, and daring originality. For every designer standing at the threshold, unsure of what step to take next, this project whispers a message with quiet confidence: you can make it. Maybe not in the way you planned, but possibly in a way that’s even more meaningful and extraordinary.
Rethinking Success Paths in Contemporary Design
Success in the design field once traced a predictable curve: study at a respected school, secure an internship, put in your time as a junior, then rise in neat increments through the studio hierarchy until you finally held the title you imagined on graduation day. That script has frayed. Economic shocks, rapid technological change, and a cultural shift toward freelancing have reshaped the ground beneath emerging practitioners. Certificates and résumés still matter, yet they no longer guarantee momentum. Instead, adaptability, curiosity, and community support have become the real currency. Where earlier generations could focus on perfecting a single skill inside a single company, today’s designers are asked to learn continuously, morph their roles, and often launch solo ventures while still absorbing guidance. The path is not linear; it loops, doubles back, and occasionally forks into unexpected territories such as motion graphics, creative coding, or social impact.
These realities can feel destabilizing for graduates who expect clarity. The truth, however, is that instability also opens fertile ground for new definitions of “making it.” Success can now center on personal values rather than external milestones. It can mean cultivating a distinctive voice, finding sustainable work-life balance, or building collaborative networks that prioritize empathy over ego. David Moloney’s project MakingIt21 taps directly into that revised philosophy. Rather than presenting a top-down lecture on career trajectories, the animated poster series offers concentric circles of advice from designers who have weathered similar disruptions. Their words are not carved into stone tablets; they flicker, glide, and sway onscreen, mirroring the living nature of a modern practice. By embedding each quote in a kinetic typographic environment, Moloney invites viewers to experience guidance as movement rather than mandate. The result is a vivid reminder that progress in design is rarely static and often quite playful.
The collection’s influence grows from the credibility of its contributors. Renowned studios including Ragged Edge and Design Bridge share reflections forged in the crucible of client demands, sleepless prototyping sessions, and unexpected pivots. Their perspectives originate in collaboration and experimentation, making the counsel both realistic and motivating. Each piece reads as a small lighthouse on a rocky coast, signaling safe passage without prescribing a single route. The cumulative effect resembles a conversation rather than an instruction manual, which is precisely what many young professionals crave in a world where traditional mentorship channels have thinned.
One of the most resonant aspects of the series is its refusal to romanticize hustle culture. The posters speak to grit and perseverance, yet they also acknowledge fatigue, the erosion of confidence that comes with rejected pitches, and the emotional labor of self-promotion. In other words, MakingIt21 does not trade in glossy perfection. It embraces an honest, sometimes messy process that reflects everyday studio life. When viewers see animated letters vibrating with color and rhythm, they are reminded that uncertainty can be energizing, not merely frightening. Success becomes less about conquering a rigid ladder and more about learning to dance on shifting ground.
Animated Typography as Living Mentorship
Animated type holds unique power. Unlike static posters that freeze a message at one moment, moving letters breathe, pause, and accelerate, echoing the way advice evolves in a practitioner’s mind. David Moloney harnesses this dynamism to turn each quotation into a miniature film that mentors through ambience as much as through semantics. Camille Walala, celebrated for her jubilant geometric murals, lends a statement that bursts with optimism. The letters pop and settle in playful syncopation, reinforcing her call to remain rooted in joy while pushing for consistency. The audiovisual pairing tells the story before any viewer decodes the sentence, inviting both intuitive and intellectual engagement.
Morag Myerscough introduces another layer of social resonance. Her practice is known for transforming public spaces into inclusive theaters of color, and her contribution to MakingIt21 channels that spirit. The animation feels communal despite being viewed on a private screen. It pulses like a beacon for anyone seeking permission to create friendly, human environments rather than imposing monuments. Myerscough’s words remind designers that the people who encounter their work are not passive consumers; they are co-inhabitants of a shared visual landscape. A welcoming atmosphere can turn casual spectators into active participants.
Spin offers a contrasting yet complementary sensibility. Long applauded for minimalist rigor, the studio distills complex ideas to their essence. In Moloney’s series, Spin’s posting glides with measured elegance, its message unfolding like a whispered secret that rewards patient observation. The understated motion underscores the power of restraint, teaching upcoming designers that excellence can reside in subtle shifts as much as in explosive gestures. This rangeWalala’s extroverted pulse, Myerscough’s community-centered vibrancy, Spin’s cerebral hushdemonstrates that there is no single aesthetic formula for relevance. Instead, form should align with intent.
Beyond style, the series functions as what we might call living mentorship. Traditional mentorship depends on proximity: studio critiques, informal coffee chats, portfolio nights. Such experiences have dwindled as the industry globalizes and remote work expands. MakingIt21 bridges that gap by embedding seasoned voices into shareable digital artifacts. The animations beckon interaction on social media, encouraging viewers to re-post, remix, and respond. In doing so, Moloney’s work creates loops of conversation that echo door-knock introductions at design conferences of the past. The posters do not replace human connection, yet they spark it by offering conversation starters that ask, “How does this advice resonate with your journey?”
Sound and motion design add further layers of mentorship. Kinetic type can quicken a viewer’s pulse, slow their breath, or tilt their perspective subtle cues that shape emotional memory. Advice that might feel abstract when printed becomes embodied when it leaps, leans, and pivots across a screen. The movement whispers that the process is ongoing, that revisions are natural, and that missteps can be part of the choreography. For newcomers battling imposter syndrome, such sensory reinforcement can make the difference between quitting a project and pushing through late-night frustration.
Moloney’s curation amplifies generosity. Studios and individuals known for competitive excellence openly share insights with no paywall. This ethic of open-source wisdom counters the scarcity mindset that sometimes permeates creative industries. By placing knowledge in motion, MakingIt21 signals that advice is not a trophy to be hoarded; it is energy to be circulated. Viewers absorb that ethos and often emulate it, answering questions in online forums, launching peer critique groups, or creating their own animated tributes. In this way, the series plants seeds that grow beyond any single screen.
From Digital Motion to Tangible Connection
Despite its digital origin, MakingIt21 does not confine itself to pixels. Moloney plans a postcard edition that transforms ephemeral animations into tactile keepsakes. A postcard feels intimate, personal, and deliberate. You hold it between your fingers, display it at your desk, tuck it into a book, or mail it to a friend. That tactility matters at a time when so much interaction occurs in notification windows that vanish with a swipe. The postcard acts as a gentle anchor, a reminder that ideas worth remembering deserve a physical presence. Each printed card carries a snippet of motion in the viewer’s memory: you recall how letters once bounced across a screen, and your imagination supplies the movement even when the ink sits still. This mental flicker links the analog and digital realms in a satisfying feedback loop.
The mascot characters that dance through several posters add warmth and relatability. Mascots have long served as ambassadors between content and audience, lowering the barrier to engagement by injecting personality. These characters embody the notion that design can be friendly rather than exclusive. When a mascot waves or twirls around a line of text, viewers feel less like spectators and more like participants invited into the scene. For those who fear gatekeeping at prestigious studios, the mascot says, “There is space for you here.”
Crucially, the animations dodge the trap of shallow motivational slogans. The language acknowledges hardships: tight budgets, client revisions, creative droughts, and the creeping self-doubt that shadows even seasoned professionals. By framing these realities in upbeat motion, the posters do not minimize struggle; they normalize it. This blend of realism and optimism cultivates what psychologists call “hopeful grit,” the belief that perseverance is worthwhile because success remains plausible even when progress stalls. Hopeful grit advances mental health by balancing candid assessment with future-focused agency. Designers who internalize this balance are more likely to experiment, take constructive criticism, and recover from setbacks.
SEO experts often speak about discoverability through keywords, but MakingIt21 demonstrates that discoverability can also be experiential. A viewer captivated by one animation is likely to explore Moloney’s larger portfolio, research the contributing studios, and share links on professional platforms. Those shares generate organic reach that algorithms reward. In effect, emotional resonance becomes a lever for search ranking, proving that storytelling and search optimization are not mutually exclusive. They flourish together when content is sincere, high quality, and socially shareable.
One cannot overlook the project’s impact on design education. Instructors can incorporate the animations into virtual classrooms, replacing static slide decks with dynamic conversation starters. Students can analyze the interplay of type, color, motion, and message while debating which piece speaks most powerfully to them. The series thus becomes a teaching toolkit, a living syllabus that evolves as Moloney adds new voices. By lowering the barrier to advanced motion design examples, MakingIt21 fosters technical literacy and conceptual curiosity in one stroke.
The ripple effect extends to small studios and freelancers who may feel eclipsed by large agencies. Seeing internationally revered designers acknowledge vulnerability provides validation. It reinforces the reality that even giants grapple with uncertainty, that celebrating partial victories is valid, and that kindness remains a competitive advantage. Freelancers inspired by the project might adopt a more generous client onboarding process, share transparent pricing guides, or mentor peers through online meetups. Each of these acts propagates the communal spirit Moloney champions.
Looking ahead, the evolving landscape of immersive mediaaugmented reality, virtual reality, and spatial computingpresents fertile ground for expansions of MakingIt21. Imagine stepping into an AR gallery where typographic quotes float in your living room, wrapping words around your furniture and inviting you to touch them. Or consider a VR pavilion where each contributor hosts a room that visually manifests their design philosophy: Walala’s environment cascades primary colors in geometric patterns, Myerscough’s space swells with participatory installations, Spin’s chamber strips down to essential forms and soft ambient sound. Such extensions would magnify the project’s mentorship potential by placing viewers inside the advice rather than simply in front of it.
At its core, MakingIt21 underscores the truth that design is not just problem solving; it is people serving people. The project embodies a shift away from cut-throat competition toward community resilience. It reminds emerging practitioners that survival and growth are communal endeavors, supported by shared knowledge and mutual encouragement. Animated type, postcards, and future immersive chapters all function as vessels carrying one unwavering message: your voice belongs in the chorus. Whether you are refining kerning on a brand wordmark, prototyping an app interface, or painting murals on a city wall, your contribution adds texture to the collective narrative of design.
By bridging geography, generation, and media format, Moloney’s work sparks conversations that outlast the runtime of a looping GIF. It reflects an ongoing transformation in how the industry values mentorship, flexibility, and emotional clarity. For students staring down a blank résumé, for mid-career professionals plotting a sideways shift into motion graphics, for seasoned directors seeking renewed purpose, the posters offer a compass built not of brass and glass, but of pixels, paper, and shared humanity.
When the world feels too volatile to guarantee any job title beyond the next quarter, it helps to remember that definitions of success are not handed down from gatekeepers; they are co-authored through dialogue, reflection, and incremental bravery. MakingIt21 supplies that dialogue in vibrant motion, encouraging designers to rewrite their own narratives every day. The series whispers, sometimes sings, sometimes roars a simple assurance: keep moving, keep listening, keep making, and you will find your placebecause design at its best is not a solitary sprint but a communal journey, paced by kindness, curiosity, and the willingness to pass the torch while the flame is still bright.
The Emotional Blueprint of Modern Design Storytelling
In a digital world overflowing with curated visuals, rapid-scroll content, and algorithm-driven portfolios, the impact of language can be easily overlooked. Yet, a single sentence, thoughtfully crafted and rooted in lived truth, can carry the weight of transformation. Not a headline or a buzzword, but a phrase that has been distilled through experience and shared without pretense. The MakingIt21 animated typographic posters harness exactly that kind of linguistic powerwords with movement, cadence, and resonance that extend beyond the visual. These are not just posters; they are gifts of insight. Not statements to impress but offerings meant to connect.
David Moloney’s MakingIt21 is more than a digital gallery; it’s an experiment in what could be called emotional architecture. Each poster becomes a blueprint for belief visual and emotional structure that quietly holds space for emerging talent in an industry that can often feel insular and unattainable. The brilliance of this project lies in its minimalism. Each piece is intentionally brief, ensuring that it is digestible in a few seconds. Yet that brevity does not dilute impact; it enhances it. The messages continue to echo long after the animation has ended, acting as silent affirmations for those who need them most.
What differentiates MakingIt21 from other digital showcases is the profound emotional specificity embedded in each contribution. The advice offered is not abstract or idealized. It is grounded, tethered to real experience, and refined through failure, persistence, and reflection. These posters aren’t fleeting visual ephemera. They’re anchors, rooted in empathy and authenticity. They don’t float above reality; they help navigate it.
When Ragged Edge shares their perspective, it pulses with the emotional texture that defines their body of work. Known for combining bold strategy with sensitive storytelling, their advice echoes the fundamental truth that design is not about broadcasting. It’s about dialogue. It invites, it listens, it challenges, and it evolves. Their animated poster feels alive with this principle, balancing precision with emotional charge. It doesn’t just move; it breathes.
The most lasting messages often come from those who have disrupted norms with purpose. The Office of Craig offers such a moment in MakingIt21. His advice is direct, irreverent, and brimming with integrityrejects superficiality in favor of clarity and conviction. This isn’t about rebellion for its own sake. It’s about daring to be honest in a landscape filled with performance. His words call on young designers to speak truthfully, act with intention, and let their instincts be their compass. In a world obsessed with visibility, this is a call for substance.
Studio Build’s contribution operates on a different but equally powerful frequency. Their work is celebrated for its restraint and deep clarity, qualities that find elegant expression in their advice. Their poster does not demand attention; it earns it through calm presence and quiet confidence. The animation is subtle, letting the words do their heavy lifting. There’s a meditative calm in its delivery, like a steady hand on a rough day. It speaks not just to design practice, but to the emotional labor of perseverance.
Beyond Aesthetics: Designing for Resonance and Belonging
Every animated poster in MakingIt21 serves a dual purpose. On the surface, they are visually engaging typographic pieces. But at their core, they function as emotional guideposts. They don’t just inform or inspirethey resonate. They prompt a feeling, a flicker of recognition, a moment of internal alignment. The kinetic typography doesn't exist merely for stylistic flair. It mirrors the unpredictable rhythms of personal growth. The movement isn’t performative; it’s reflective of the lived, nonlinear nature of any creative path.
The inclusion of small animated mascots in each poster adds an unexpected but powerful layer of playfulness and humanity. These characters dance, leap, bow, or pause, often at the exact moment emotion crests. They provide a sense of camaraderie that is rarely seen in professional design work. Their presence signals a deeper truth: that creativity, at its best, retains a sense of joy and lightness, even in the midst of deadlines, revisions, or doubt. They remind us that excellence and fun are not mutually exclusive.
Design Bridge offers one of the most grounded contributions to this series. Their animated poster is free of excess. The movement is thoughtful and deliberate, a visual echo of their philosophy that effective design doesn’t shoutit speaks with quiet certainty. The poster’s language and animation style demonstrate that strength can be found in subtlety. In an industry where louder often seems better, this is a reassuring declaration that restraint has power and that confidence doesn’t require spectacle.
The diverse voices in MakingIt21 speak with rare alignment. From Camille Walala’s vibrant optimism to Nomad’s narrative precision, what emerges is more than a collection of perspectives. It becomes a communal archive of lived design truths. These insights haven’t been conjured from theory. They’re shaped by setbacks, revisions, collaborations, and the quiet struggle of making things that matter. What this project captures is something close to a living oral history of the design profession as it stands todaya history not of milestones, but of mindsets.
Each poster reflects not just the ethos of the designer behind it, but the emotional atmosphere they navigate. These are not ideas for gallery walls. They are field notes for the next generation. They offer guidance not on technical processes, but on emotional endurance, ethical clarity, and finding joy amid uncertainty. That is what makes MakingIt21 so distinct. It’s not concerned with temporary validation. It’s concerned with lasting value.
Designing Hope: The Slow Burn of Authentic Success
What David Moloney has created with MakingIt21 is quietly revolutionary. It presents design advice not as instruction, but as invitation. It suggests that success is not a product of style, speed, or social reach. Instead, it reveals success as something slow, interior, and deeply personal. This project does not offer blueprints for fame. It offers sustenance for those at the beginning of the journey, or those lost somewhere along the way.
The idea to turn these digital animations into printed postcards adds a poignant dimension. It suggests a return to tactility, to permanence. These are not fleeting Instagram moments. They are meant to be held, pinned, mailed, and cherished. They are designed to last in a world that often encourages fast forgetting. A postcard is a gesture of intimacy and attention. It is a way of saying, “I see you,” without expectation. That act carries profound emotional weight, especially for those struggling to feel visible.
For the emerging designer doubting their voice, for the graduate whose work hasn’t yet found its audience, for the professional on the verge of burnout, these posters offer not solutions, but something far more essential: belief. They remind us that the work we dohowever unseen it may feelstill matters. That our effort holds weight. That we are not alone in our questions or setbacks.
This belief is not offered as platitude. It’s delivered with emotional precision and practical resonance. The voices in MakingIt21 do not suggest that the road is easy. They simply affirm that it is worth walking. And in doing so, they give form to something intangible but deeply neededthe sense that we belong in this space, however unsure our footing may feel.
To view these posters is to participate in a quiet act of reflection. They don’t demand your attention. They invite it. They don’t prescribe a single path. They illuminate many. And perhaps most importantly, they trust the viewer to carry the message forward in their own way. That trust is radical in its own right.
In an industry that often rewards polish over process and appearance over authenticity, MakingIt21 chooses instead to honor truth. The project doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. What it offers is a map of emotional touchpointsguides to resilience, courage, humility, and joy. And that map, like any good design, is open-ended.
This is not just a collection of animated posters. It is a constellation of voices, each one shining with its own frequency but together forming a powerful signal. A signal that says: You are not too late. You are not too much. You are not alone. Your voice has value. Your process has purpose. And your story belongs here.
The Silent Impact of MakingIt21: A New Kind of Design Legacy
As the final moments of MakingIt21 come into view, there’s a palpable shift in the aira kind of meaningful pause, the one that follows deep reflection rather than theatrical endings. This isn’t the grand finale of a typical design campaign. There are no fireworks or dramatic farewells. Instead, what settles is a quiet, enduring awareness that something generous and deeply human has unfolded. MakingIt21 doesn’t demand attention with noise. It rewards those who linger, those who are listening not for spectacle, but for significance.
What David Moloney has created is far more than a series of typographic animations. It’s a subtle movement, a collective breath within the design world, and a new model for mentorship in practice. Rather than replicating a top-down structure where guidance is dispensed from a pedestal, MakingIt21 offers something flatter, more relational. It bridges generations and experience levels by standing shoulder to shoulder. There is no hierarchy here. There is a shared ground, a space where newcomers are not merely learning but are invited into a dialogue.
This approach reshapes the traditional notion of legacy in design. Instead of being preserved in award lists, technical portfolios, or visual trends, this legacy resides in atmosphere. It breathes through moments of honesty, kindness, and shared vulnerability. These 21 animations are not merely instructional or aesthetic exercises. They are living reminders that design can be an emotional practice. They create a space where reflection isn't a pause in progress but a vital part of it. The messages are not flattened by the algorithmic rush of online timelines. They are slow, intentional, and rich with care.
Nomad’s contribution captures this ethos beautifully. Known for evoking feeling through design, their poster isn’t loud or extravagant. It doesn’t fight for the spotlight. Instead, it lingers in the mind long after viewing. It affirms that excellence doesn’t need to announce itself. Sometimes, excellence is quiet. It arrives not with a bang, but with a presencethrough daily commitment, patient refinement, and an unwavering belief in the unseen aspects of the creative journey.
Redefining Mentorship and Voice in Modern Design Culture
In an industry so often obsessed with speed, novelty, and visual perfection, MakingIt21 turns the focus to something often left behind: intentionality. This project isn’t a sprint; it’s a slow walk through the emotional terrain of being a designer. It reminds us that faster isn’t always better. More followers, more projects, more applausethese are not the only markers of impact. Sometimes, what matters most is how deeply your work resonates, how honestly it reflects your perspective, and how long it stays with those who see it.
Each quote, carefully selected and brought to life through animation, becomes a ritual in itself. The motion is not flashy for the sake of effectit is metaphoric. Some texts glide smoothly, others arrive hesitantly, stumbling before revealing clarity. This is not a design choice born from chance. It reflects how real creative growth happens. Rarely is design a linear process. It’s messy, iterative, and deeply personal. MakingIt21 embraces that awkward beginning. It shows that what eventually becomes polished often starts with doubt, confusion, and experimentation.
Morag Myerscough’s addition glows with her signature energy, the same spirit found in her vibrant public installations. Her message, rooted in color and optimism, serves as a radiant invitation to designers who want their work to spark joy rather than merely impress. Her quote echoes the belief that design is never isolated. Even personal expressions are part of a broader conversation. Her poster becomes a lighthouse for those seeking to bring delight, meaning, and connection to their audience.
And then there are the mascotsplayful, constant figures that weave through the entire collection. They are not decorative afterthoughts. They are symbols of a deeper idea: that design can hold both depth and lightness. Their presence is not a distraction, but a celebration of the whimsical, a gentle nudge that wisdom can sometimes wear a costume and that valuable advice can arrive in dancing form. They keep things human. They remind us not to take ourselves too seriously even when the work is serious.
Yet, this series avoids slipping into hollow positivity. There is nothing forced or artificially cheerful here. What grounds it all is a strong current of truthfulness. The encouragement offered doesn’t come in the form of clichés about hustling harder or dreaming bigger. Instead, it offers solidarity. It says, we’ve been where you are. We understand the second-guessing, the late nights, the portfolio revisions, the quiet fear that you might not belong. And instead of fixing those feelings, it sits with them. That’s the deeper gift: companionship over correction.
When Aporva Baxi says, “Design with optimism,” the phrase doesn’t demand naivety. It isn’t suggesting the world is always bright. Rather, it proposes optimism as a tool, a material to be shaped like color or form. In today’s culture of critique and cynicism, optimism feels almost rebellious. Here, it becomes a choice, a perspective that refuses to surrender to despair. It becomes design with a purpose beyond aestheticsdesign that insists on hope, even when things are uncertain.
Belonging, Reflection, and the Future of Generous Design
Even the briefest quotes in MakingIt21 land with unexpected power. Take David Ormondroyd’s line: “You can’t really do anything wrong.” It slices through the noise of perfectionism that haunts so many emerging designers. It tells them that the fear of messing up is less important than the act of starting. For those wondering whether their designs are good enough, whether their vision is valid, this message arrives like fresh air. It clears the room of unnecessary pressure. It doesn’t ask for greatness. It simply gives permission.
This emotional resonance is the soul of MakingIt21. It speaks not just through visuals but through empathy. These posters do not instruct so much as they embrace. They don’t offer step-by-step instructions or success hacks. Instead, they say something far more profound: we see you. We’ve been through it. And you are not alone. For many, this is worth more than technical critique or design templates. It is a reminder of belonging, a soft validation of one’s place in a demanding field.
Looking ahead, these 21 posters may evolve in format. They may become postcards, prints, or be turned into installations. They might appear in studios, bedrooms, or classrooms. But no matter where they travel, they’ll carry with them the same essence. They will continue whispering their message of worthiness and inclusion. They will remind whoever sees them that their voice matters. That there is room in this industry not just for brilliance, but for honesty. Not just for polish, but for perspective.
That’s what sets MakingIt21 apart. It doesn’t spotlight star designers or chase the next design trend. It doesn’t elevate exclusivity or place influence behind gates. It opens the circle. It levels the stage. In doing so, it redefines what it means to be influential in design. Influence here is not measured in followers or features but in presence, in empathy, in the willingness to share without pretense. Vulnerability is not a weakness to overcome. It is the proof that you are engaged, that you are trying, that you care.
What David Moloney has built through this project is not just a collection of moving images. It is a communal artifact. A collective mirror for designers at all stages. It holds space for reflection while gesturing toward a future built on generosity rather than gatekeeping. A future where wisdom is accessible, not hoarded. Where advice is shared not from a distance, but with a hand extended. It is mentorship without ego, education without formality, and encouragement without agenda.
Conclusion
MakingIt21 is not just a project’s a quiet revolution. Rooted in empathy, motion, and honesty, it redefines how mentorship lives in modern design. It doesn’t shout for attention, it offers companionship, clarity, and care. Each animated poster breathes with lived wisdom, gently guiding emerging creatives through doubt, detours, and discovery. In a fast, polished world, MakingIt21 is a reminder that real success grows from reflection, vulnerability, and connection. It proves that design is not only what we makeit’s how we uplift, how we listen, and how we move forward together. In that spirit, every viewer becomes part of the story.
