I have a terrible sense of direction—but somehow, getting lost has always led me exactly where I needed to go. My internal GPS is questionable at best (thanks Schmidt genes), but wandering has always served me. It’s brought me to new ideas, unexpected detours, and a career built on curiosity, creativity, and following my bliss - even when I’ve felt lost.
Along the way, I’ve learned that everything is a design opportunity—the process itself can be artful and everything leading up to the end goal is an opportunity to infuse story, beauty and craft. I believe design plays a meaningful role in our lives: to celebrate the communities and places we’re designing for, and to infuse our everyday with joy, beauty and deeper meaning.
Here’s a bit of my story below….

I was born in Portland, Oregon, the kind of creative kid who made art at the kitchen table, won all the grocery-store coloring contests (I’m not competitive-ha), and chatted with my imaginary friend Foxy for hours on my Mickey Mouse phone. In the 1980s, we moved to Korea for my dad’s job at a small-at-the-time shoe company called Nike. Living in Korea and traveling throughout Asia throughout my childhood left a permanent imprint on me. It started my love of culture, experience, and aesthetics—and instilled a sense of possibility and global curiosity that continues to shape both my work and my life.
Returning from Korea back to the states, my brother and I grew up as latch-key kids in the burbs. In the 1990s Portland was the small city no one had heard of. People would ask us, where are you from? And, we’d say “Portland, Oregon” and they’d say, “Where is that?” And we’d say, “It’s below Seattle and above San Francisco”. The Portland that nobody had yet heard of was a beloved idealistic place that was full of artists, hippies and weirdos in the best way. We were recycling before it was cool, shopping at the best vintage stores before it was trendy and expensive, and getting to see all the coolest bands in the smokiest tiny clubs before they went to the bigger cities. We got to see Nirvana, RadioHead, The Breeders, Elliot Smith, The Cure and so many more great musicians at small venues before they were huge. It was an exciting time to be in Portland.
When it came time to go to college, my heart longed to try a bigger city like New York or San Francisco, but my family’s budget required I stay closer to home. At the University of Oregon, I originally thought I’d become a pediatrician - I wanted to help others and I loved kids. But my heart wasn’t in it (organic chemistry class was the deal-breaker), and eventually, art pulled me back. I explored fine art and architecture, was accepted into the interior architecture program, and took every creative class I could. In the end, I chose to graduate on time with a degree in Psychology, a minor in Architecture, and a portfolio of design work—trusting that I’d figure it out in the real world.
At the same time, my scoliosis had progressed to the point that I needed major back surgery. Preparing for it was one of the most physically and emotionally challenging experiences of my life. I trained like an athlete beforehand—running, lifting, working out daily—and went into the surgery strong. Recovery was slow and humbling. I couldn’t roll over in bed. I couldn’t walk to the mailbox. But I had the support of my caring mom, and eventually I gained back strength, mobility, and momentum. That experience rooted me in deep gratitude for my body, my health, and the people who show up when it matters most.
After recovering, I eventurally got a job with the help of a friend from the U of O and began working at Oregon’s largest architecture firm, ZGF, as an intern. I carved out a hybrid role for myself and worked closely with the design partners on a variety of big projects—moving between interiors, planning, branding, design competitions and graphic design. Eventually, I felt called to go deeper, and returned to school to pursue an MFA in Media Design Practices at ArtCenter College of Design. It was one of the best decisions of my life. I studied everything from design systems to printmaking to digital media, surrounded by brilliant minds and big conversations about design, society, and culture. It taught me to think critically, conceptually, and expansively.
After grad school, I returned to Portland and was hired again by ZGF Architects to consult on the upcoming Legacy Randall Children’s Hospital. I was eventually brought back in-house to lead the experiential graphic design for the project—which went on to win awards from SEGD, AIA, and others, but more importantly, became an inspiring place of healing for children and families. It remains one of the projects I’m most proud of.
During that time, I also ran a side hustle—when side hustles weren’t cool yet. (In the architecture world, people called it ‘moon-lighting’ and it was frowned upon.) For me though, I found it a creative outlet and a way to explore another more expressive side of my brain - the side that loves fashion and color and print. I co-founded a small print studio around 2007 called Salvage, designing surface patterns for fashion and lifestyle brands. I used my vacation days to travel to New York for trade shows, exploring the world of fashion, color, and print and hawking my designs to companies who were interested. That work ultimately caught the attention of Nike. My prints helped me land a role piloting their first dedicated apparel color design position—and kicked off what became a seven-year career there. A both educational and cathartic experience given my personal connection to the brand.
At Nike, I worked across Women’s Training, flagship retail design, brand and product design—eventually designing stores in Portland, San Francisco, Chicago, Osaka, and Beijing. Designing the flagship stores (Our team was re-envisioning the physical experience of new Nikes stores. Out with the NikeTowns of the past, and in with the Nike Retail of the Future.) This was a challenge that came naturally to me, given my deep understanding at a cellular level about the brand, having been a Nike kid my whole life. I understood the brand, and I also had ideas for how to make the store experience better, and more authentic to who Nike was at the time. It wasn’t always easy, but it was an incredible experience that took me all over the world and taught me so much.
I often joke that Nike was my second grad school. It pushed me creatively, intellectually, and emotionally. I learned about business, design, collaboration, and what it means to be a good leader.
In 2013, I left Nike and took a much-needed sabbatical—tending my garden, making art, and reconnecting to my creative soul. It was restorative. Soon after, I was hired as Creative Director of Brand Experience at IDL Worldwide. There, I led a talented team of designers, architects, illustrators, and 3D specialists. We created brand experiences for Coca-Cola, Quay Australia, Nike, Columbia Sportswear, Foot Locker, and others.
Throughout my career, I’ve worn two hats: designer and artist. I love the birds-eye view of creative direction just as much as I love getting lost in the details of materials, typography or composition. I work at both macro and micro scales—collaborating on conceptualizing large-scale environments and obsessing over the smallest details of products. My practice today is still deeply rooted in color, materiality, story, and craft.
During the pandemic, after too many months of gray skies in Portland, I took a leap and bought a 1963 mid-century house in Palm Springs. It needed work—and I loved every second of fixing it up. There’s something powerful about seeing your physical labor take shape in real time. What started as a personal project is now a creative retreat, Airbnb, and joyful home-away-from-home. Being part of a sun-drenched community that values architecture, sunshine, and slowing down has been pure magic.
Today, I run my own little studio from Portland and Palm Springs. I started SSD when my long-time friends at ZGF reached back out to me in 2017 to work with them to design the Portland International Airport, a project that continues today. I keep my team very small and nimble, bringing in collaborators as needed and staying hands-on in the work. We specialize in experiential graphic design, public art, and custom architectural graphics—creating artful, thoughtful design solutions for airports, hospitals, housing, campuses, and cultural spaces. Our goal is simple: bring beauty and joy into the built environment, and have fun doing it.
To anyone building a creative life—especially those in transition—I want to say: it’s possible. You can chart your own path. You can be a successful artist and designer. The road may be winding, but it’s yours. I hope that sharing my story helps you believe in yours a little more. I’m always happy to connect—whether as a collaborator or fellow creative.
Keep going + Remember to follow your bliss,
Sara