So, I got this idea stuck in my head a while back – an “apocalyptic brand.” Sounds a bit much, right? But I was just messing around, really, thinking about what kind of logos and feel things would have if everything went sideways. It wasn’t for any big project, just a personal challenge, something to chew on.
Getting Started, or Trying To
First off, I just started doodling. Pencils, pens, whatever was lying around. I was thinking, what screams “end of the world” but also “still kicking”? That was the tricky part. You see a lot of skulls and biohazard symbols, and yeah, those are fine, but I wanted something a bit… different. Maybe a bit hopeful, even if it’s a gritty kind of hope. I spent a good few days just filling up pages with rough shapes, busted-up letters, that sort of thing. Lots of coffee was involved, and honestly, most of it was junk.
I tried looking at old military surplus stuff, survival gear packaging – you know, the real hardcore prepper brands. Some of that was cool, very functional, very stark. But it still wasn’t quite hitting the vibe I had in my head. I wanted less “tactical” and more “making do with scraps.”
The Detour – Real Life Apocalypse (Almost)
Then, wouldn’t you know it, I got bogged down with some other stuff. A small freelance gig came up, and I thought, “Easy money, quick turnaround.” Famous last words, right? The client was, let’s just say, challenging. Kept changing their mind, wanted champagne on a beer budget. The whole thing felt like its own mini-apocalypse for my sanity. I wasn’t even touching my personal project at this point. Too busy trying to decipher cryptic emails and redo work for the tenth time. It was draining, man.
But here’s the funny thing. All that frustration, all that feeling of things being broken and chaotic? It kind of, weirdly, fed back into the apocalyptic brand idea. I was living a tiny slice of “everything’s a mess” and it gave me a new perspective. Not that I’d recommend a nightmare client for creative inspiration, mind you.
Back to the Drawing Board (Literally)
Once that freelance mess was finally over, I went back to my apocalyptic brand sketches. And suddenly, things started to click a bit more. I was less focused on making it look “cool” and more on making it feel authentic to that imagined world. What would people actually cobble together? What symbols would mean something?
I started playing with these ideas:
- Hand-drawn elements, nothing too clean or digital.
- Imperfect symmetry, like something was hastily made.
- Symbols of resilience – a stubborn weed, a cracked but standing structure, that kind of thing.
- Muted colors, but maybe with a single, small pop of something unexpected, like a defiant splash of yellow or blue.
I spent a weekend just messing with textures. I scanned in crumpled paper, rust stains I found on an old shed, anything that looked worn and weathered. Then I started layering these with my sketches in some basic design software. Nothing fancy, just trying to build up that feeling of age and hardship, but also endurance.
What I Ended Up With
In the end, I didn’t create a full-blown brand guide or anything. It was more like a concept piece. I settled on a sort of emblem – a stylized, cracked seed sprouting a tiny leaf, enclosed in a rough, hand-drawn circle that looked like it was stamped on. The “brand name” I came up with was something simple, like “Ember.” You know, the last glow before it goes out, or the spark that could start something new.
It’s not perfect, and it’s not going to win any awards. But going through that whole process, the initial fumbling, the annoying detour, and then finally getting something down that felt right – that was the real takeaway. It was a good reminder that sometimes you just gotta push through the muck, and sometimes inspiration comes from the weirdest places. Definitely learned a bit about just letting an idea breathe and not forcing it too much. And hey, I got a cool little design out of it that I might use for something someday, who knows?
