People don't usually think fashion campaigns and children's drawings have much in common.

I work as a Creative Director, developing visual concepts, shaping stories, and making countless decisions about color, composition, and design. When I'm not deep in mood boards and creative concepts, you'll find me working with children, surrounded by markers, paint, and wonderfully unexpected ideas.

To me, they are part of the same creative practice.

Whether I'm developing a campaign or sketching alongside a child, the work rarely begins with how something should look.

It begins with a question.

Who is this for?

What story are we trying to tell?

What should someone feel before a single word is read?

I've learned that the strongest visual ideas aren't simply beautiful. They communicate. Every choice carries meaning. A color can shift a mood. A silhouette can suggest confidence or playfulness. A tiny detail can make something feel familiar, mysterious, or entirely new.

What I love most is that those choices don't arrive all at once. They reveal themselves gradually.

A sketch becomes a face.

A splash of color changes a mood.

A small detail suddenly suggests a personality.

The character begins to emerge.

Give children the freedom to invent a character, and they don't just decide what it looks like. They decide who it is.

What it loves.

What it's afraid of.

Where it lives.

Suddenly, a striped hat has a reason to exist. A heart stitched onto a coat becomes part of the story. A curious little companion appears beside them, almost as if it had been waiting to be discovered.

The drawing becomes something more than a drawing.

That way of thinking is at the heart of my Design Your Own Character experience.

We spend less time worrying about drawing something "correctly" and more time asking better questions.

Who is this character?

What makes them unique?

How can we express that through shape, color, clothing, expression, or posture?

There are no right answers, only thoughtful choices.

Professional creative practice reminds me that every visual decision has intention. Children remind me that intention doesn't have to come at the expense of curiosity.

Maybe that's why a mood board and a child's sketchbook don't feel so different to me.

To me, they're two expressions of the same creative practice.

Both begin with a blank page.

Both are waiting for someone to imagine who might appear.