AI is a great tool. I use it for a lot of tasks, especially the mundane chores that designers dread — like cutting a person out of a photo background. That used to take a long time, and now we can click a single button to make the background disappear. I appreciate the innovation that streamlines our workflow. If there’s a spectrum of AI adoption, some people are fully all-in, while others are entirely anti-AI. I fall somewhere in the middle. I use it, but I believe a process of “trust calibration” needs to happen. We often have a habit of trusting machines more than people. For example, consider a calculator. I’m an artist, not a mathematician. When I need to compute large numbers, I punch them into a calculator, and I trust the answer because it’s a machine. We seem to have applied that same blind trust to AI. When we ask it a question, we assume the output is correct. When people prompt an AI for a flyer design, they assume the output is the best it could possibly be. The issue is that we are giving AI the trust of a calculator while assigning it the nuanced tasks of a human. We need to evaluate its work the same way we would review a human’s output.
I had the pleasure of talking with Larissa Leeper.
“We are giving AI the trust of a calculator while assigning it the nuanced tasks of a human.”
For Larissa Leeper, that distinction is more than a clever way to describe the unease surrounding artificial intelligence. It gets at something she has spent more than two decades learning as a designer: tools can accelerate the work, but they cannot decide what the work should mean.
Leeper is comfortable with technology. She taught herself Photoshop around 2003, later learned web design and development, and now uses AI-powered features inside Adobe products to handle repetitive tasks that once consumed hours. She is not nostalgic for the days when removing a background from a photograph required painstaking manual work. What concerns her is the point at which assistance becomes abdication, when people stop using technology to extend their judgment and begin asking it to replace judgment altogether.
That tension runs through a career built on learning new tools without losing sight of the people on the other side of the screen.
Leeper grew up in the Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana tri-state area, mainly in a single-parent household with several siblings and a hard-working mother. Art was the constant. Birthday requests meant art supplies. By high school, she was taking every art class she could find, including photography, screen printing, and painting. She knew she wanted a creative career long before she knew exactly what form it would take.
College was not immediately practical. Leeper had children at a young age, so she began teaching herself instead. With Photoshop and online tutorials, she started making album covers and logos for local contacts, sometimes charging very little and sometimes nothing at all, largely to build a portfolio. Logo design led to web design, web development, and eventually the broader branding work she handles today through Ravel Brands.
The education was inexpensive in tuition and occasionally costly in other ways. One of her clearest early lessons came from underpricing her work. She would estimate a project based on an orderly version of how she expected it to unfold, only to watch revisions and scope creep turn it into something much larger. “You realize you just gave half of your life to this project,” she says. Even now, she suspects her rates may sit below the market.
Her professional life eventually divided into two complementary tracks. In her corporate role, she works at a global scale. She recently directed the creative side of a culture initiative for a company of roughly 90,000 employees, naming the project, designing its assets, and contributing to communications, video scripts, and storytelling. Through Ravel Brands, the scale can become much more personal. Her clients have ranged from professional athletes and authors to local businesses trying to turn a scattered idea into something recognizable.
That variety appears to be the point. Leeper does not describe design as a system for imposing her taste on clients. She talks instead about listening closely enough to understand what they are trying to build. The agency’s name came from years of hearing clients arrive with ideas that felt “unraveled”: a logo here, a website there, a vision they could not yet organize. “I pull it all together for them, I ravel brands,” she says.
Some projects carry stakes beyond appearance. She describes working on branding and a website for professional soccer player Savy King’s heart-health foundation as especially meaningful. She was similarly honored to build a website for Priscilla Shirer, whose Christian ministry Leeper had long admired. Faith is not separate from how Leeper thinks about work. It informs how she responds to rejection, how she defines purpose, and how she believes people should be treated in business. She rejects the familiar line that business should not be personal. “Business is inherently personal because businesses are made of people,” she says.
That conviction helps explain why her skepticism about AI is less about protecting a profession than protecting human agency inside it.
Leeper uses AI. She experiments with it. She appreciates what it can remove from a designer’s workload. But she has also watched clients submit AI-written website copy they have barely read, then become surprised by their own words once the site is built. She has seen clients feed designs into AI for critique, request changes based on that output, and later wonder why elements they originally loved were altered.
Her phrase for the solution is “trust calibration.” Treat AI, she argues, like a junior assistant. Let it draft. Let it suggest. Then read every word and consider every recommendation before attaching your name to it.
The same boundary shapes her reaction to generative video and automated design. The technology impresses her, but she remains reluctant to hand over the part of the process she values most. “I want to do the creative work myself,” she says.
After more than 20 years of adapting, that position is less contradictory than it first appears. Leeper built her career by refusing to be intimidated by unfamiliar tools. Now she is arguing just as firmly that knowing how to use a tool includes knowing what should never be delegated to it. For a designer whose business is built around taking scattered pieces and giving them coherence, the challenge ahead may be the most fitting one yet: deciding which parts of creativity technology can help ravel together, and which must remain unmistakably human.
Yitzi: Larissa, it’s so nice to meet you. Before we dive in and talk about your great work, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share with us the story of your childhood, how you grew up, and particularly the seeds and genesis of all the amazing creativity that has come since then?
Larissa: I’ve always lived in the tri-state area — Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana. I’m in Cincinnati, Ohio right now. I grew up mainly in a single-parent home. My mother worked hard to take care of us, and I have a bunch of siblings, so we were always just trying to keep things together and find time for fun along the way.
I always enjoyed art. For every birthday, I would ask for art supplies, and I always knew I wanted to have a career in art. Once I got to high school, I took every possible art class there was: photography, screen printing, painting, and all the typical art classes. I really dove into art-related things, and the rest is history. I’ve just always been interested in art.
Yitzi: Tell us the story of how you started your successful creative agency.
Larissa: I began as self-taught. Back around 2003, I got my hands on Photoshop and just started teaching myself. I had children at a young age, so I wasn’t able to attend college right away, but I knew I wanted to learn how to do these things.
I really began by working on album covers and logos for people I knew locally for dirt cheap or even free just to get the portfolio going. I became known for my custom MySpace pages. To get better, I went online, looked at tutorials, and really got into logo design. Eventually, I taught myself web development and web design.
Today, I offer the full gamut of services — from the logo to the sell sheets and assets that come with the brand, and then the website to match.
Yitzi: You probably have some great stories from your career, and I’m sure this is difficult to single out, but can you share two stories that stand out in your mind?
Larissa: One moment recently that I really enjoyed was being contacted by U.S. pro soccer player Savy King. She actually faced a very serious heart health issue right on the field in the middle of a match. She learned that she has a rare congenital heart defect, and now she puts her heart and soul into her foundation, called Savy King of Hearts.
They came to me for a branding project that was really impactful. She spends a lot of time gathering resources to help people understand heart health and learn CPR. I really love being involved in projects where people are making a difference. It’s always fun to do the cool-looking stuff, but when people are making a difference, that makes it extra special. I really like the bold, youthful brand and website that resulted, and Savy is pleased as well.
Another story would be of one of my ministry heroes, Priscilla Shirer, I just completed her website design and development project. I was very honored to be asked to do that. She does a great job of teaching women about the Lord, so I felt very privileged that she chose me to work on her site to help get her resources out.
Yitzi: There’s a saying that sometimes our mistakes can be our greatest teachers. Do you have a story about a funny mistake that you made when you were first starting and the lesson that you took away from it?
Larissa: A good one would be that my pricing structure used to be very poor. I never valued my work where other people valued it, and I always charged very low. Even to this day, I believe I’m probably charging under the market rate.
I’ve had some embarrassing situations where I fell into a big hole of work because I didn’t charge the right amount. That’s something a lot of creatives suffer through — having an idea of, “This project is going to go smoothly. This is how I see it going, so this is what I’ll charge for it,” and then finding out later that it was a much bigger project. Scope creep comes in, and you realize you just gave half of your life to this project. One of the bigger lessons in the creative industry is that pricing appropriately can be difficult.
Yitzi: There’s a related idea that “no” is not rejection, but redirection. Do you have a story where you received a “no” to an opportunity, but that led to an even better opportunity?
Larissa: That can be said about nearly every encounter when it comes to work. I look at every “no” as being just as good as a “yes,” because it leads to wherever I was supposed to be in the end anyway.
If there was a project I wanted, or an employer I wanted to work for, I put these things into prayer. I don’t know what’s ahead or what’s on the other side of that door, but God does. When I put something in prayer, if the answer is no, that’s just as good as a yes to me because it’s a solid answer. Every “no” helps me get to the right place, rather than just the place I thought I wanted.
Yitzi: What has been the most challenging project or role you’ve taken on so far, and why?
Larissa: I currently hold a corporate design position as my full-time day job, and we just completed a very big culture rework. The company has 90,000 employees globally, and I was in charge of the creative direction for our enterprise culture shift project.
I named the model, designed all of the assets, and contributed to the communication, video script and storytelling. While it was a massive undertaking, having an awesome team made it so much easier. It’s hard to call it a challenge when everybody worked together so well, because a project like this could easily fall apart without strong collaboration.
I’m very appreciative of the team I worked with. Still, being the sole point of contact for every single graphic asset for the project across such a large company is a significant undertaking but I enjoy it very much.
Yitzi: Let’s talk about your work. Tell us about your main business model, what you’re focusing on these days, and what most of your clients are looking for.
Larissa: I have two distinct sides of myself: my day-job version, which is corporate design work, and my agency version, Ravel Brands, where I get to do fun, bright, colorful graphics. On the corporate design side, I bring in that energy where possible while sticking within brand guidelines.
The real expansion and growth in my craft comes from the agency design work. I’ve had clients varying from pro athletes to public figures running for office, a New York Times bestselling author, and local mom-and-pop companies. I love helping small businesses brand themselves, get their website online, and realize, “We’re really making this thing real.” Having that wide variety of clientele helps me attach myself to the projects emotionally, allowing me to understand each client’s unique needs. That variety has helped me grow a lot.
Yitzi: What is your lead generation strategy? What do you do to find new clients?
Larissa: Because I’ve been doing this for over 20 years, all of my clients come by referral. When people ask me that question, I tell them I don’t actively do lead generation. I just have a website up, and most people find me through word of mouth.
Because I have a corporate day job, I don’t necessarily need to aggressively grow the agency. Requests come in, and I get to pick and choose which ones I want to take on because agency work is my passion project rather than my sole bread and butter.
Yitzi: When we first met, we spoke about AI and how things are changing. What are your thoughts about AI in the marketing and graphic design industry? Nowadays, people can use ChatGPT or image generators to make flyers and logos. Where does that leave designers and agencies like yours?
Larissa: AI is a great tool. I use it for a lot of tasks, especially the mundane chores that designers dread — like cutting a person out of a photo background. That used to take a long time, and now we can click a single button to make the background disappear. I appreciate the innovation that streamlines our workflow.
If there’s a spectrum of AI adoption, some people are fully all-in, while others are entirely anti-AI. I fall somewhere in the middle. I use it, but I believe a process of “trust calibration” needs to happen.
We often have a habit of trusting machines more than people. For example, consider a calculator. I’m an artist, not a mathematician. When I need to compute large numbers, I punch them into a calculator, and I trust the answer because it’s a machine. We seem to have applied that same blind trust to AI. When we ask it a question, we assume the output is correct. When people prompt an AI for a flyer design, they assume the output is the best it could possibly be.
The issue is that we are giving AI the trust of a calculator while assigning it the nuanced tasks of a human. We need to evaluate its work the same way we would review a human’s output.
In web design, for example, I ask clients for the content to build their site. Often, they hand me a document completely generated by AI. That’s fine if they want to build on that foundation, but I hope they’ve reviewed it to ensure it accurately reflects what they want to say. Sometimes it’s not until the website is fully designed and developed that they ask, “Why does the copy say this?” And I have to ask, “Did you read the content you provided?”
What frustrates many designers even more is when clients provide design feedback filtered through AI. A client might take a proposed logo or web layout, feed it into AI, and ask the model for critique — perhaps trying to provide the feedback in design language. They end up passing along AI feedback that doesn’t reflect their actual thoughts, simply trusting the machine to provide optimal critique. That is where projects derail. We are letting tools make creative decisions for us instead of using them to assist our judgment.
When providing website content, treat the situation as if you hired a junior assistant to draft it. You would review it carefully to ensure it represents you accurately. People need to evaluate AI outputs with that same critical eye rather than assuming mathematical perfection.
Because AI is still relatively new, we should have room for grace as we all learn. We’ll look back one day and laugh about our early confusion. But during this transition, my primary message is to calibrate your trust. Question how much weight you give to what it produces.
Yitzi: Is the solution to tell clients, “Here is the deliverable; please don’t ask AI for its opinion”? Or is it better to say, “You can consult AI, but remember that it lacks your human perspective and doesn’t fully grasp the context of your business”? What is the best approach?
Larissa: That is the golden question. I’ve been pondering how to update my client onboarding process to address this directly. We all have human agency, and I can’t dictate what tools a client uses.
My recommendation is: if you use AI to draft content, review every word first. Don’t pass along unvetted text, because it creates unnecessary revisions later. Similarly, don’t rely on AI to generate your aesthetic feedback. I’ve had situations where a client submitted AI-generated revision requests, I made the changes, and they asked, “Why did you change that? I loved the original design!” They loved the original work, but the AI advised otherwise.
Pretend AI is an assistant whose ideas require human review. We don’t accept another person’s opinion with 100% blind faith, and we shouldn’t treat AI opinions that way either.
Yitzi: As an industry insider, do you have any hidden AI tools or gems that you love and that most people don’t know about?
Larissa: Not really. I’m very “meat and potatoes” regarding the tools I use. I love the built-in capabilities inside Adobe products — the text layout enhancements and the background removal tools are great.
I prefer features embedded directly into existing applications that streamline my established workflow over hunting down standalone tools. I want assistance with mundane, repetitive tasks, but I don’t want software to strip away the creative problem-solving. That’s the part I love doing.
I tested Claude Design and realized quickly that I don’t want a platform handling the inventive stages. It can handle the repetitive chores; I want to do the creative work myself.
Yitzi: What are your thoughts on AI video generation?
Larissa: It’s very cool. I experimented with Runway a bit. Because the technology is still developing, the perceptible gap between AI video and real footage pulls me out of the experience.
I’ve watched AI videos with compelling narratives, but the artificial nature creates an invisible emotional barrier. Even during emotional scenes, it doesn’t move me because my brain registers that it isn’t real.
I have a love-hate relationship with it. It’s impressive that individuals can create cinematic shots from home, but it often lacks soul. It imitates human expression without genuine experience. I hesitate to embrace it fully because I don’t want us to lose our shared humanity. If you can’t tell, I am kung-fu-gripping humanity.
Yitzi: You’re describing the “uncanny valley,” where something looks almost human, creating an unsettling feeling. For the near term, do you think AI video works better when applied to stylized animation or claymation, where it isn’t attempting to look like real human footage? Or does the same issue persist?
Larissa: That’s a great point. Stylization like animation or claymation feels less jarring than synthetic human faces, but as an artist, I still find myself thinking, “I want to see claymation crafted by an actual human animator.”
I find myself holding onto human craftsmanship. Saying, “I’ll accept AI for claymation,” feels unfair to the traditional claymation artists who pour their souls into the craft.
We’re in a period of figuring out where the boundaries belong. Like the internet when it first emerged, this technology holds potential for both constructive and harmful uses. My call to action is simply: tread lightly.
Yitzi: Larissa, you’ve achieved significant success and gained valuable experience. Looking back to your beginnings, can you share five lessons you’ve learned over the years that someone starting out today could benefit from?
Larissa: Five lessons:
First, don’t assume barriers exist before you’ve attempted the journey. We often get in our own way thinking something is too difficult, or that we lack the intelligence or skill. Don’t place limits on yourself at the starting line. Assume you are capable, and take the first step.
Second, avoid relying solely on your existing skillset. Someone might excel at hand lettering and decide that lettering is the only path for their career. Explore complementary disciplines to become well-rounded. If someone had told me in my twenties that I would direct corporate design for a global enterprise, I would have laughed. Yet working in corporate design gave me a profound appreciation for branding systems and uniting teams behind unified ideas. Broaden your skills.
Third, build relationships with people who are skilled in your field or performing at an even higher level, don’t be prideful. Expand your network early. We learn from each other. I run a side business flipping houses, which once felt completely out of reach while watching home improvement shows. Once I decided to pursue it, I connected with local real estate investors, and their proximity gave me the knowledge and network needed to start. The same principle applies to creative fields. Surrounding yourself with capable peers accelerates your growth.
Fourth, reject the saying, “It’s not personal, it’s just business.” Business is inherently personal because businesses are made of people. Treat your clients and collaborators with genuine care and respect, the way you would treat your grandmother. Everyone has emotions, aspirations, and perspectives. When people strip humanity away from commerce, they lose something vital. Care for the people you work with.
Fifth, never stop learning. After 20 years in this industry, it would be easy to become set in my ways. Remain adaptable to new workflows and ideas. Stay curious, stay humble, and recognize that your education is never complete.
Yitzi: That’s wonderful. On a personal level, can you share the self-care routines that help your body, mind, and heart thrive?
Larissa: My husband and I recently started working out four times a week. I’m definitely feeling the energy benefits of regular exercise and staying hydrated.
Beyond physical fitness, my core self-care is emotional and spiritual. I’ve been married for 23 years, we have seven children, two energetic dogs, a full-time corporate role, a branding agency, and a real estate venture. Life is full.
Prioritizing quiet moments to reconnect with God and my family is essential. If your spiritual and emotional foundations deteriorate, your physical well-being follows. True health requires nurturing your relationships, your inner peace and peace with others, alongside your physical body.
Yitzi: Larissa, you have built an inspiring platform. If you could spread an idea or inspire a movement that would bring the greatest amount of good to the most people, what would it be?
Larissa: As a woman of faith, my foundational belief shapes everything I do. I want everyone to know that there is a loving Creator who made them with intention and purpose. My husband and I direct our time and talents toward sharing that truth through our organization Random Church, because knowing you are deeply valued and have purpose changes how you live.
It’s easy to feel weighed down by daily stress, interpersonal conflicts, work pressures, or financial strains. Recognizing that our present difficulties are not the end of the story provides lasting hope.
Genuine hope is contagious. You can’t counterfeit love, and you can’t fake authentic hope. When people carry that perspective, it transforms their personal outlook, strengthens their families, and uplifts their communities.
Yitzi: Larissa, how can our readers continue to follow your work, engage your services, or support you?
Larissa: Readers can see samples of my work at my website, ravelbrands.com, or connect with me on LinkedIn. I am always open to meaningful conversations about design, entrepreneurship, or faith. Investing time in people is always worthwhile, so anyone should feel free to reach out.
Yitzi: I love the name Ravel — it sounds like the intentional opposite of unraveling. What is the meaning behind the name?
Larissa: That is exactly what it means. Over the years, many branding clients came to me with disjointed thoughts: “I need a logo, I think I need a website, and my vision feels scattered.” Their ideas felt completely unraveled. My job is to bring clarity, structure, and unity to that vision — I ravel brands.
Yitzi: That’s fantastic. Larissa, it has been an absolute pleasure speaking with you. I wish you continued success, health, and blessings. We’ll have to do this again next year.
Larissa: Thank you so much. I wish the same for you. It was wonderful meeting you.
Designer Larissa Leeper on Why She’s ‘Kung-Fu-Gripping’ Humanity in the Age of AI was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.