Aaron Gilmore — A Color Bright
Aaron is a designer based in the North of Ireland. He is currently working at A Color Bright, a company for design and …
I think about design as being analogous to the role of magnets in a particle accelerator. In their natural state, the likelihood of two protons colliding at near the speed of light is nearly zero. Yet, through the careful orchestration of electromagnetic forces—precisely calibrated attractions and repulsions—this improbable event is manipulated to happen billions of times per second. These controlled collisions enable thousands of scientific experiments to unfold, each unlocking new insights over years of research.
Design functions in a similar way, but instead of magnets, designers wield perceptual and cognitive shifts. Pronounced imperatives—visual, emotional, and interactive cues—guide users to see, act, and respond in deliberate ways. As a result, events that would otherwise have an incredibly low probability of occurring—such as a user extracting value from a product or experience—become not only possible but repeatable and reliable.
In this light, design is the art and science of making unlikely outcomes inevitable. For me, it’s a means to an end—a way to bring the things I want to see in the world into existence, with greater frequency and intentionality.
There is no such thing as a "typical day" for me. From 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., I reserve my time to be available for others—whether that’s answering questions, collaborating, or helping move ongoing work forward.
But from 7:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m., I’m sitting at the proverbial piano. These hours are dedicated to deep, independent work on problems that are a few months ahead of the team’s current focus. This gives me the space to explore, experiment, and begin mapping the problem space before bringing others into the fold. The output is usually a simple prototype—interactive tools with knobs and sliders that help visualize ideas and make them tangible.
Sundays are my designated day off from SOOT. Instead, I dedicate this time to research—reading papers, exploring ideas, or immersing myself in museums. It’s a way to recharge and refuel the creative process.
I work in a lot of different places, often with a vintage Rimowa briefcase balanced on my knees. It turns out to be the perfect height and surface area, doubling as a surprisingly comfortable and functional desk.
Art museums.
Every time I see Joan Miró’s surrealist paintings, I imagine an interface of the future that I’d love to use. The colorful, amorphous blobs evoke buttons for an organic future computer—playful, sensual, and alive with possibility.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSMhzUsXyqM
One of the biggest design challenges we face is overcoming the inertia of inherited patterns—designs that may have served a purpose in the past but are misaligned with today’s context. Much of what is considered “design” often boils down to a regression toward normalized averages, perpetuating outdated metaphors.
Take the folder icon, for instance—how many modern computer users feel any connection to the concept of a paper folder? Or consider linear scrolling interfaces: when the first GUIs emerged, computers had around 2MB of storage, and linear scrolling made sense because you could almost see your entire system at a glance. Today, with the scale and complexity of modern data, linear interfaces no longer hold up.
At SOOT, we’ve made a deliberate choice to move away from these inherited patterns. For example, we replaced linear scrolling with something resembling a cloud, a system we internally call “the mosh.” This shift has required us to rethink many established design conventions from the ground up. Fortunately, our team of designers excels at first-principles thinking.
Marcel Duchamp spoke about the "artist's coefficient"—the gap between what the artist intends to say, what they actually say, and what the audience perceives. The same principle applies to design.
To grow as a designer, you need to spend as much time as possible observing the raw data on how your ideas interact with this coefficient. How do your designs connect to real changes in human behavior? The only way to truly answer this is by getting close to the raw data—studying how people engage with what you create. Anything that stands between you and that direct feedback slows your growth. The more raw data you can access, the faster you’ll identify your mistakes and improve.
This might sound obvious—something almost every designer would agree with in theory—but many fall into the invisible trap of measuring success through how well they navigate social structures: pleasing a manager, a client, or a professor. When this happens, the focus shifts from solving problems on a deep level to surviving within a bureaucracy. True growth comes from being as close as possible to how real people use your ideas, over and over again.
Sometimes this means going beyond the boundaries of your job. Create side projects. Release them independently. Watch how they perform. Learn from the friction and the failures. The more you immerse yourself in this process, the sharper your designs will become.
We recently launched an interview series called Hard Drive Reveal, where we map the hard drives of some of the world’s leading creatives in SOOT and interview them about what they uncover. The series features incredible talents like Fazoo, Paul Nicholson (the designer of the Aphex Twin logo), and Diet Paratha, among others. It’s a fascinating dive into the creative process and personal archives of amazing people.
New episodes drop every Monday on Dazed. You can check out the first article in the series here: Jake Harper and artists dig deep into hard drives in a new film series.