When I was small, I remember wondering if people see colors the same way. Do you see blue like I see purple? Is your mustard my marigold? Why are you wearing neon green when it is so clearly a distracting and heinous hue? Furthermore, what does the world look like through colorblind eyes? In a year in which color is such a politically provocative and empowering idea, I wanted to reflect a bit on how it inspires me.

I won't delve into color theory, as there are many designers speaking on the subject who are far more knowledgeable and eloquent than me. And honestly, I'm most often more attracted to a lack of color than vibrant ones — I'm in constant search of the perfect shade of grey (I just can't get enough charcoals and slates and taupes) — so I'm certainly no expert in the ways of color. But every so often, I'll see a combination of colors that just knock my socks off, and it's rarely the overtly bold and bright colors, but the unexpected, the clashing, the subtle.

One of my favorite artists is Mark Rothko, whose highly abstract use of color evokes emotions and energies that transcend the color themselves. "The people who weep before my pictures," he has said, "are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you say you are moved only by their color relationship, then you miss the point." For him, the relationships between colors and the emotions they evoke make for a spiritual experience, and I can't disagree. Standing in front of a Rothko in a museum, it feels a bit disrespectful to do anything but stare in stunned silence.

In contrast, Gerhardt Richter, Ellsworth Kelly, and other minimalist artists often used the idea of a commercial color chart or paint color chips and subvert them to show the purely visual, objective, and consumerist nature of color. This idea of randomness, of found color, can be very inspirational. I recently received a Color Accordion as a gift, and flipping through the deck makes this monochromatic-loving gal want to add some color to her life. Check out the paint section of your local hardware store (which I've been to a few times lately... 50 shades of white... how do I choose?), and see if you're not inspired by the rainbow of hues and subtle fades.

But most of all, I like to see color through a camera lens, because sometimes photographs can show beauty that we don't notice in our hustle and bustle lifestyles. With a full memory card and a handy Photoshop eyedropper tool, it's amazing what hidden color ways you can find, even in the most mundane of scenes. It's instant color inspiration for art, design, and spicing up the digs. Furthermore, it can be applied conceptually — how relevant would it be to apply a color way from a photograph of a Japanese fish market to a website for a new sushi restaurant in Lakeview? Sure it's a stretch, and no one but you will know the inspiration, but it's a good way to step outside your usual go-to schemes.

Nowadays I've come to the conclusion that we don't all see colors in the same way, although I can't say whether it comes down to matters of taste or perception. But it's clear that colors have the power to evoke emotion. Our marketing manager tells me that in 2009, the 'new black' will be yellow, a color representing hope, sunshine, and warmth. It's a happy thought, one that will support the big changes we hope to see in the year to come. And, thankfully, yellow looks great with grey.

As designers, we are constantly seeking new, innovative ways to communicate the messages of our clients. This May, our design team traveled to OFFF 2008 in Lisbon, Portugal to soak up some inspiration, see what other designers across the world are creating, and to bring that knowledge back to Killswitch to spark new ideas for future creations.

OFFF is a 3-day design festival exploring the latest ideas in a new visual culture, covering everything from graphic design and visual communication to motion graphics and sonic landscapes to advanced forms of interaction, via physical space or digital space. Rather than thinking in terms of the post-apocalyptic world where machines have taken over (think Terminator or Blade Runner) as we did back in the '80s, the new post-digital creation culture considers what we can create next in this diverse, digital spectrum. Now that we have the technology in place and have studied and explored and created, the wi-fi artists of today are re-examining our relationship with technology to push and blur boundaries and to explore new digital avenues. Artists are turning to programming, programmers are turning to music, and musicians are turning to art. As these areas overlap, new breakthroughs emerge. The same code used to generate colors and patterns can be used to create artwork for the walls of your house. Personal data can be calculated and mapped to create a visual diary of communication patterns. A computer's capture and storing of real-time movement can be used to recreate those movements in a simulated virtual environment. These explorations are opening up brand new avenues of communication and interaction, and have exciting implications for the future of our digital culture.

More than 2500 people attended OFFF this year, and the attendees included designers, artists, musicians, and developers from all over the world. Held at the LX Factory, an immense industrial space tucked away amongst brightly-tiled row-houses and cobblestone streets in the Alcantara area of Lisbon, the event boasted floor to ceiling presentation screens, interactive art installations, and a wealth of DJ entertainment. Every presentation in this talented line-up was inspiring, and each one explored a different area of visual communication. Karlssonwilker made us laugh with all of their crazy design experiences, Alex Trochut amazed us with his illustrative typography, Joshua Davis fascinated us with his dynamically generated works of art, Craig Swann motivated us with his playful outlook on the world, Andreas Müller mesmorized us with his swimming type and fluid forms, Fakepilot caught our attention with his Daft Punk-style intro, Hellohikimori engaged us with their colorful, immersive websites, Hi-Res! amused us with their rejection of the expected, and Fallon entertained us with their simple yet highly original advertisements, proving that a big budget is less powerful than a big idea.

The diverse and groundbreaking ideas from speakers at this event prove that what we think of now as "new media" is just the tip of the iceberg. Today's designers and artists defy classification, reject the limitations of technology, and develop their own standards. OFFF was a truly memorable event and one that moves all of us forward.

I've always had a bit of a love affair with books and magazines. The dog-eared pages, the smell of the ink, the crack of the spine – like receiving a handwritten letter in the mail, it's a tactile experience that is satisfying in terms of its rarity in our digital world. As a designer, I am never ashamed to judge a book by its cover, and I delight in the visual details, typographic and otherwise. But is print becoming an anomaly, or in the frightening words of The Simpsons, is the medium dying?

More and more often, people are turning to the web for information. Newspaper circulation is declining, and blogs are becoming the go-to avenue for unedited, collective conversation. The web has the power to reach the masses, fluidly and flexibly, via searchable and linkable content, and slick, experiential interfaces. In this media-rich world, where we are bombarded with images in an aggressive, almost subliminal way, the internet seems the only medium that can keep up. We seem to be refusing to settle for anything less than constant On-Demand content, where the dissemination of information is free and democratic.

But all this is not news. What is changing, however, is that larger companies have started to forego more traditional avenues in favor of the broad outreach of the internet. A project we just completed for an architecture firm, a flash New Years greeting, reached thousands of clients and contacts around the world in a matter of seconds. Flexible in its delivery, and dramatic in design, the digital card was a perfect solution for a company that prides itself in green practices. Large and small companies alike have an increasing need for a variety of avenues to reach their target audience, and "going digital" can help them reach a new demographic. Likewise, some magazines (like the recently-retired Punk Planet, and teen 'zines ElleGirl and Teen People) have made the switch from print to digital (either by choice or necessity), allowing for a constant influx of user-driven content, and a cost-effective approach to visual communication. Sites like Craigslist have rendered the Classified section of the newspaper useless, as the up-to-the-minute content of the online portal can't be challenged.

In the ever-changing digital realm, however, content is disposable. While a beautiful book, or a screenprinted poster, or a letterpressed card may remain in your office indefinitely, as items of contemplation or "objets d'art," digital content dies quickly and absolutely. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. The web's ethereal and expendable qualities force us to constantly evolve, to consistently revisit our intentions and to design for lasting impact.

I will always, unwaveringly, be a die-hard print addict. There's just nothing like coherent, well-edited, beautiful print pieces, where the grid is king, typography is queen, and CMYK is the official language. I will often advocate print collateral over web-based material – the physical and portable benefits of print (and our visceral reaction to it) are too important– but I may have selfish motives. It's a YouTube world now (or maybe it's a *shameless plug alert* Jackass World), and the limitless reach of the internet is too exciting to write off. Our time is becoming more and more valuable as the world changes rapidly around us, and it's our responsibility as members of the creative and technical communities to be at the forefront of this evolution. And, for the purposes of full disclosure, I get my news online. C'est la vie.