Let me start with a story that has shaped my entire life up to this moment and beyond. I was a wicked kid with trouble written all over my face. It's needless to say that I only excelled in Sports, Art, and Math (yes, Math; my mother was a math teacher, and it seems my pragmatic side was wired correctly). In the 8th grade, after barely surviving to repeat the year, my art teacher called my mom and said, "I am moving to Art High School, and I think it would be a good idea to send Stefan there. He's talented, and I can work with him for the next four years." My mom was surprised to hear that I was good at art, as I had never shown any interest in it at home.

Fast forward to the end of Architectural High School: the same teacher who had called my mom in 8th grade and had been my drawing and painting teacher for four years, called her again. "Continuing with Architectural University will be a big mistake for Stefan. He gets bored easily and is highly creative. He should try art or this new thing called graphic design." Once again, my mom took the teacher's advice, and I pursued graphic design. I never finished university, but that’s a story for another day.

In terms of who I became as a professional and even as a person and father, I owe a lot to following this path, a path guided by my teacher, Rita Badulescu, and supported by my parents. How many parents would trust an art teacher calling them and suggesting a career path for their child? Mine did, and it made all the difference.

I don't want you to think that I had no say in this... but that would be correct. I was happy to hear that school would mostly involve drawing and painting—happy days! Of course, I said yes to that.

Another significant point in this journey was in the year 2000 when my father brought home our first computer. I was fascinated by it in a way my brothers and friends were not. I wanted to shift from paper to digital, to learn how to combine the two mediums to create digital posters, websites, banners, and books. For the first time, I asked my mom to buy me two books—one was a tutorial book and CD for Photoshop, and the other for Dreamweaver. I spent countless hours in front of the computer, trying to figure out how it worked and how I could translate what I had in my head (and could draw on paper) into digital form.

This is what brought me into graphic design, which I am still learning about to this day, 20 years later.

When people ask what I do as a graphic designer, it's easier to tell them what I don’t do—open-heart surgery, for instance. So you can relax; there are far more important jobs with higher risk and less reward. People see this job as a flamboyant thing for the chosen few, but in all honesty, I think anyone can do it at an average level. And what does average mean? It means the majority, and that's also the majority of the clients. The majority of clients are looking for the majority of designers. It's easy to be in the majority.

In early 2000s Romania, graphic designers were a minority. There were so few designers and so few resources that I felt like there were only 30-50 designers in the entire country, and I was part of that. Nowadays, it feels like there are 500,000 designers in the entire country. Who am I in this vast field? I’m not sure if my perception is right, but that's how it feels.

To summarize, I am a self-made graphic designer with a multidisciplinary skill set. I work in different mediums such as branding, web design, illustration, and publishing. This means I can work in-depth with one client if needed and am open to a variety of fields: corporate, cultural, and more.

Now, if you want to know what really drives me and why I approach my work with the same enthusiasm I had at 18, there are a couple of reasons. One is the diversity of projects, clients, and challenges. Being a freelancer for 18 years, I’ve worked on many projects from different countries and cultures, with various budgets, approaches, briefs, challenges, small teams, big teams, lead roles, and minor roles—you name it. How can you get bored in this job? I’ve tried; it’s impossible. I never saw myself sitting at a desk working for the same client for years. This goes back to my teacher's advice: “Don’t let him go to Architectural University because his mind runs at 240 km/h. He can’t stay still for two minutes, let alone work on the same project for two years straight; he’ll go crazy.” So, I wake up every day knowing that I’m going to do something new, and that’s incredibly exciting and motivating for me. I love what I do, and especially over the last 10-12 years, I feel like I’m cheating by earning my living through a hobby.

A couple of years ago, my mom opened up to me and said, “Boy, the best decision I’ve made with you is to let you do what you want and find your own path.” As a parent myself, I’m careful to leave enough room for my kids to grow in their own direction. I see the parent-child relationship like a tree with two suns. The tree is the child, and the two suns are you as a parent trying to guide the tree to grow your way, and the child's own sun guiding them to grow their way. So, I think as parents, we should be more like the moon, like my mother decided to be at some point. This perspective has influenced not only my approach to parenting but also my approach to my work, allowing both creativity and guidance to coexist harmoniously.

I don’t believe in inspiration that comes out of the blue; in fact, I can positively say that has never happened to me. The most motivating thing for me is the white canvas at the beginning of a project. That moment when you have a blank paper or screen in front of you, with no idea what you’re going to do. That process gives me goosebumps, excitement, and thrill. It is also scary.

I once had the opportunity to choose a theme and speak at one of the Creative Mornings talks. Naturally, I chose to talk about genius, thinking, first, that I am a genius (cocky, I know), and second, that I would have a genius idea to present to the crowd. Needless to say, I had no genius idea with one day to go until the presentation. So in the end, I talked about how I’m not a genius.

Doing that presentation actually made me think about what I do and what people see. I came up with this quote, which for me sums up the relationship between both sides: "Genius is the process, the connections, the patterns that are invisible to the untrained mind, making them seem like magic."

The most challenging part of my job is exceeding the client's expectations. By nature, even if they say they don’t know what they want, clients usually have some idea—a favorite color, a shape, a feeling, anything. They might not be able to express it, but if they see it, they’ll immediately say, “That’s exactly what I wanted.” And that’s exactly what I don’t want to hear. If they say that, it means you did a good job—average, expected. But if their reaction is, “Oh, we didn’t expect that!” then you know you’ve managed to push beyond their expectations. They might need time to process the unexpected, but our job as designers is to go beyond expectations. It’s easy to meet expectations, especially with experience and technical skill. So the first thing I do is build what they expect to see. Then I park it because I know we’re safe with that. And then the fun—and the real challenge—begins, as I push through to exceed those expectations.

As for the future, I have no idea what it holds. If I had a crystal ball, the first thing I would do is sell it. I don’t want to know what the future holds; it would take away from the excitement and the process of advancing in time. But I hope to continue having the same excitement and joy that I have now while working.

I’m a very private person, and I love working from home in my own corner. Whether it's in the middle of the living room or hidden away in the dressing room, I always need my personal little things around me. Everything you see around my desk or beyond it has a story that keeps me hooked at my workspace. Some of these items are extremely private, while others are just plain silly and bring a smile to my face, like the upside-down donkey my wife brought back from Japan. This little figurine sits right in front of my eyes and serves as a constant reminder to goof around more, be relaxed, and not take things too seriously.

I once showed you a notebook full of doodles made during Zoom calls, which I call Macaronarii. It has absolutely no purpose but is a testament to how much I don’t enjoy being in endless meetings. Everything around me serves as inspiration.

I want to end with a cheesy quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson, whom I must admit I don't know much about, but this quote perfectly sums up my journey so far: "Go where there is no path and leave a trail."