The design process is never linear. At times we run into walls that force us to rethink our work and start again from square one. While this can be difficult to reckon with, we believe honesty is the best policy, both with ourselves and our clients.

So, how do you come up with completely new ideas? After all, it can be difficult to free yourself from past thinking and look at a problem with a fresh perspective.

While most would be tempted to go back to Illustrator, we take a slightly different approach. It’s at this precise moment we shut down our computers, put away our pencils, and close our sketchbooks.

Instead, we resort to questions. Big dumb ones.

Now, this is not always as easy as it sounds. It takes practice. The agency world trains us to play the role of the clever, all-knowing creative. Funny enough though, it’s this very mentality that impedes our ability to push past problems and create truly great work. What we’ve realized is the more you’re willing to ask seemingly naive questions, the easier it is to reframe a problem.

So, what does this approach look like in action?

While our tendency as a studio is to share polished, portfolio-ready work, in this particular case demonstrating our process serves to better illustrate our point. Enter the Eames Institute of Infinite Curiosity. (Yes, we’re using the full name because it plays an integral part in the story we’re going to tell).

As you look at the playful “e” identity we created, what you don’t see is the journey required to arrive at this seemingly simple, yet intuitive design. This was a process of creation, destruction, and reinvention. Ultimately, it wasn’t until we had arrived at a final design (that we then scrapped) that we decided to make a hard pivot. This change in direction is what led us to the logo you now see today.

The early phases of the project went smoothly. Our kick-off and immersion left us feeling excited, energized, and inspired. The Eames Ranch and collection left an indelible impression on us and the first design exploration yielded many different identity concepts.

This led to the selection and refinement of a single design direction.

It was at this moment we took a brief pause to reflect on our work. The logo felt smart, unique, and distinctly Eames-ian. While it passed the sniff test, it left us all with this niggling feeling of frustration. It was a beautiful mark, but it came across a bit too static and, well…institutional. Ironic given the brief: create an identity for the Eames Institute.

This is where things took a turn. In the true spirit of Ray and Charles, our client asked a simple, yet thought-provoking question…

“What is an institute anyway?”

Quickly followed by

“Is the Eames Institute even the right name?”

“If we could rename it, what would we call it?”

This triggered an entirely new line of thinking–a naming brainstorm that would lead us down a completely different path.

This process resulted in The Eames Institute of Infinite Curiosity–a name that uses the word “institute,” but one without the “institutional” feel.

This is what transformed the project and our perspective.

Suddenly we were able to see much more clearly. The Eames Institute wasn’t about preservation; it was about inspiration. It wasn’t about the artifacts; it was about visitors. It wasn’t about an aesthetic, it was about a vision.

This is the moment we knew. The identity we created didn’t need to capture the qualities of Ray and Charles’ work; it needed to capture their defining characteristics as people—their curious nature.

We had been reinvigorated. Once again we felt a surge of creativity. We finally had the brief to crack the code. (Thank you, Joe)

As it would turn out, curiosity paid dividends in more ways than one. Not only did it lead to the creation of a new dynamic identity, it encouraged us to rethink our own internal approach.

It showed us that while smart questions help you arrive at a solution, big dumb ones help you reframe the problem altogether. They allow you see something entirely new.