I didn’t start out wanting to be a graphic designer. As a kid, my passion was simply building. Roller coasters in Roller Coaster Tycoon, dream homes in The Sims, my creativity came alive through interactivity. That need to create followed me into adolescence, where I began crafting internet animations and Flash games with other creatives online. I thought I was heading toward a career in 3D animation. Graphic design wasn’t even on the radar.

At Texas A&M, I entered the Visualization program, which offered tracks in Game Design, 3D Animation, and Graphic Design. Most classmates dreamed of working at Pixar. I did too, until senior year. Adobe tools had become second nature to me. Graphic design courses felt natural and exciting. Suddenly, the dream shifted. The clarity of direction I’d never had before snapped into place. That decision would change everything.

My first job out of college wasn’t typical. I interviewed once, got hired quickly, and landed at Platform Management, a parent company overseeing multiple subsidiaries. My role? The sole designer for all of them. Cooper Valves, the most design-forward brand in the group, wanted everything from renderings to animations. It was a trial by fire, but I thrived in it.

My boss was calm, capable, and great at filtering requests so I wasn’t overwhelmed. The workload was intense, but not chaotic. If I got stuck on a project, I’d pivot to another brand and come back with fresh ideas. Cooper Valves gave me a platform to flex my 3D and animation skills, putting them miles ahead of their competitors who still relied on grainy photos of oily equipment. I remember hearing that they had once been quoted $50,000 for a video I produced in three weeks. That moment reframed my understanding of the value I added to the team.

My mentor at Platform left about a year into the job. That’s when everything changed. Without him buffering the flow of tasks, I became fair game. Sales, execs, human resources: they all started giving me direction, sometimes in real time. I knew the balance was gone when I had someone looking over my shoulder, asking me to move assets around an artboard pixel by pixel.

Micromanagement became the norm. I was being asked to track how much each subsidiary company used my time to justify my salary allocation, which grew tedious. When the requests started pushing my ethical boundaries, I knew it was time to go. I opened LinkedIn and made my move. A new opportunity came quickly: Enersafe, a single-brand company with a long to-do list and a better salary. I took it, hopeful that this would be different.

Enersafe started strong. My new boss had clear expectations, and I delivered fast. But halfway through the year, I had already finished everything on their design list, which was supposed to last years. The response wasn’t celebration, it was confusion. With no design work left, they handed me stacks of paper and spreadsheets. I was scanning paper documents and entering data just to justify keeping me on the payroll.

I realized I couldn’t rely on employers to keep pace with my output. The problem wasn’t the company. I needed a model that matched the way I worked, not one that punished me for being efficient. Predi Designs began to form in my mind. Subscription-based. Flexible. Fair. I wasn’t going to wait for a better job. I was going to build a better way to work.

Before I even quit Enersafe, I got a call. The former president of Cooper Valves had moved to Chaoda USA and wanted to bring me on full-time. But instead of accepting, I pitched something different, a subscription model that allowed his company to access high-quality design work without the burden of hiring me full-time.

He said yes. Chaoda USA became my first client. Not long after, Enersafe was audited and liquidated. A group of employees split off to form GryphonESP and assumed I’d be joining them. I gave them the same pitch. They also said yes. In a matter of weeks, Predi Designs had two paying clients, both built on past relationships and mutual respect. And both companies are still clients today.

Predi Designs is a framework built for specialized competent workers who want more freedom and autonomy. The subscription model doesn’t just benefit me. It works because it meets the needs of businesses that want quality without bloat. No need to buy me new equipment, no need to get me a cubicle, no onboarding, no 401(k), no health benefits. No contracts padded with clauses to justify a full-time hire.

Clients use the service when they need it. They leave when they don’t. It keeps my work varied, my mind sharp, and my business stable. Most importantly. This model protects me from the financial cliff of traditional employment. Losing one client isn’t a catastrophe, it’s a vacancy I can fill. The trust I’ve built with long-term clients is proof that this model thrives.

Predi Designs was born from necessity, but it’s sustained by clarity. Every job, every breakdown, every awkward meeting, it all served a purpose. I don’t want to go back and relive it, but I’m grateful it happened. It showed me what I didn’t want, and made it obvious what I needed to build.

Nearly a decade later, I’m still working with my first two clients. My old bosses are now subscribers at their new companies. Predi Designs has grown without forgetting what sparked it, working fast, working well, and never pretending to be productive. I’m not chasing scale for the sake of it. I’m building a company that fits the way I think, and helping others solve their own creative bottlenecks in the process.