The Architects of Wonder: Lessons from the Heart of a Design Studio

When I first stepped through the doors of Toss The Coin, I carried with me a question that felt heavier than it should have. How could someone like me, someone who lived outside the language of pixels and palettes, ever truly collaborate with designers? 

I was a stranger in a land where colour spoke louder than words, where whitespace held meaning, and where every curve told a story I hadn’t yet learned to read. 

That question followed me into my first project, shadowing my every move like doubt often does. But what I didn’t know then and what I couldn’t have known was that this team would become the compass that would redirect my entire career. They wouldn’t just teach me skills; they would awaken in me a fascination so profound that I now find myself drawn to their craft, eager to pick up the very tools that once seemed so foreign to my hands. 

There’s a particular kind of magic that designers possess, a magic that the world too often takes for granted. They are storytellers, yes, but not in the conventional sense. They don’t simply narrate; they translate emotion into form, purpose into beauty, complexity into clarity. Theirs is a language that transcends words, speaking directly to something deeper in all of us. 

This skill, this ability to breathe life into the intangible is rare. Precious, even. And I have learned to hold it in the highest regard. 

Among these artists, I found a mentor. Not someone who taught me through formal lessons, but someone who guided me effortlessly, like water shaping stone over time. Through their eyes, I began to see what had always been invisible to me: that I, too, had an eye for detail. That I, too, could contribute something meaningful to this craft. 

This mentor didn’t just practice design, they lived it, breathed it, embodied it with such authenticity that being in their presence felt like standing before a work of art that was still being painted. Those ten months working alongside the design team became a defining chapter of my journey at TTC, a season of growth I wouldn’t trade for anything. 

As a project manager for the design studio, I became a bridge between two worlds, the designers who create, and the client partners who present and protect. I witnessed firsthand a truth that too few acknowledge. 

Client partners are indeed the pillars of our projects, visible, strong, bearing the weight of accountability. But here’s what often goes unseen, our designers are the intricate carvings on those pillars, the delicate reliefs and ornate details that transform cold structure into breathtaking architecture. 

It’s their thought, their relentless effort, their boundless creativity, and above all, the love they pour into each project that creates the work our clients cherish. It’s why they return. Not for the pillar alone, but for the artistry that makes it unforgettable. 

Each designer I’ve worked with carries their own unique genius. Working closely with them has been like learning to read different languages, each one fluent in their particular dialect of creativity. Understanding these individual strengths, seeing each person not as a resource but as a singular talent, has transformed how I approach my role. 

When I assign work now, I’m not simply distributing tasks. I’m composing. Matching the right artist to the right canvas, the right voice to the right story, ensuring that both the work and the creator can flourish together. 

There have been storms, days when requests flooded in like rain, when we juggled more projects than seemed humanly possible. Yet somehow, every time, the team rose to meet the moment. Watching them do the impossible with such grace has filled me with an unshakeable hope for what we’re building and where we’re heading. 

Processes exist to create structure, to smooth the rough edges of chaos into something manageable. But I’ve learned something crucial: processes are only as good as the understanding we bring to them. 

You can have the most elegant system in the world, but if you don’t understand the people it’s meant to serve, it becomes a cage rather than a framework. 

A little understanding goes a long way. 
A little “I’ve got your back” goes a long way. 
A little “I see you, I see the work you’re doing” goes a long way. 

These aren’t just platitudes, they’re the mortar that holds our team together when everything else threatens to crumble. 

As I write these words, I’m overwhelmed by gratitude. Gratitude for every designer who has allowed me into their world, for every piece of work they’ve crafted with such care, and for the work they continue to pour themselves into, day after day. 

What you do is not easy. It requires a particular kind of courage – to create, to care, to put your vision into the world knowing it will be judged, dissected, and sometimes misunderstood. 

But here’s what I want you to know: it is remarkable to witness. Your work doesn’t just fill space or meet requirements. It moves people. It changes perspectives. It builds worlds where none existed before. 

You are not simply designers. 
You are architects of wonder. 
And it has been a privilege for me to work beside you. 

 

Storyteller