Sharpening your craft
Issue 273: Craft as a loop: isolate, observe, refine
When Team USA gathered in Las Vegas for the 2008 Olympics, the roster was stacked: LeBron, Dwyane Wade, Chris Paul, Dwight Howard, Carmelo Anthony. Most players were arriving from long NBA seasons carrying the usual mix of soreness and fatigue. Mornings at camp were quiet and predictable—sleep as long as possible, breakfast at eight, light stretching, then practice.
Kobe Bryant broke that rhythm immediately. Only weeks removed from the NBA Finals, he treated camp like a reset rather than a recovery period. Teammates remembered hearing footsteps in the hallway before dawn or seeing a faint glow from the practice court long before anyone else was up.
One morning, around four a.m., a trainer woke to a call from Kobe asking to open the gym. By the time he arrived, Kobe was already drenched in sweat—running footwork drills, balance work, and movement patterns in silence. After more than an hour of conditioning, he lifted weights and then returned to the court to shoot until he reached his personal target: eight hundred made shots.
Later that morning, as the rest of the team wandered into breakfast, stretching and yawning, Kobe walked in with ice on his knees and his practice gear soaked through. For most players, the day was beginning. For him, it was already well underway.
What mattered in that story wasn’t how much he did, but how focused he was. He spent those early hours tightening small mechanics—footwork angles, balance, timing. At the highest level, separation comes from fundamentals sharpened with precision. The same is true in design. Range expands, but real improvement comes from a deeper command of the foundations.
Deliberate practice
Cal Newport describes deliberate practice as identifying a gap and applying steady pressure until it changes shape. It’s the part of your craft that feels unstable or underdeveloped, not the part that already feels natural.
In design, this often looks like rebuilding a layout to understand its spacing, adjusting type until the tone matches the intention, or re-creating an interaction to study how the pieces fit. It’s quiet work that rarely turns into a case study but raises your baseline in ways people notice later.
Learning through osmosis
Deliberate practice is personal. Osmosis comes from the environment around you. One of the fastest ways to improve is to work near people whose instincts outpace your own—whether that’s type, spacing, information architecture, or interaction patterns.
You start to absorb things without labeling them. How someone approaches critique. How they structure a file. The way they tighten a layout or collapse a flow. These small patterns accumulate and gradually reshape your reflexes. You see this in kitchens, orchestras, engineering teams, and sports: the surrounding craft becomes part of how you learn.
Osmosis doesn’t remove the need for reps. It changes the impact of each one.
Sharpening with the senses
Taste comes from learning to see structure beneath the surface. Manual mood boards are one way to develop that ability—collecting references by hand, grouping them, and naming what’s working. Rhythm, restraint, negative space, color temperature. Looking closely builds pattern recognition.
Critique refines it further. Once your eye sharpens, you notice the small tensions and imbalances that shape how an interface feels. Gradually, taste becomes a guide for your decisions rather than something you apply at the end.
Sharpening the tools
Design also lives in the body. Drawing by hand strengthens translation speed. Recreating interfaces manually reveals how components relate. Tool fluency—shortcuts, muscle memory, smooth movement—reduces friction and increases the number of ideas you can explore.
A personal website is one of the best places to practice. It’s your front door, but it’s also a quiet workshop where you can experiment with layouts, systems, and frameworks without permission. Side projects build on that. My rule is simple: every project should include one skill I don’t already have. Skills settle in through use.
New instruments, old foundations
Tools evolve quickly. Queuing agents, generating variations, orchestrating workflows across models—these are becoming part of everyday design work. But abstraction often reveals gaps in fundamentals rather than hiding them.
I think back to a metaphor I wrote about recently: learning the piano versus learning the DJ set. Some begin with the raw instrument, where every note reflects the hand. Others start with loops and layers at a higher level of abstraction. AI tools feel like the DJ set—they let you move quickly before your hands fully understand the lower layers. Over time, though, real control comes from knowing the material underneath.
Agents respond to the craft you bring into them. A trained eye produces clearer prompts. A refined sense of taste filters strong output from weak. A fluent hand navigates the space more confidently. The tools scale what is already there.
Optimizing your craft workspace
Craft grows in the environment you build around it. A consistent workbench—your notebook, Figma, Obsidian, your AI tools—reduces friction and keeps your attention on the work itself. Physical tools matter as well: the pen you reach for, the latency of your tablet, the posture that allows you to focus. The workspace is not just the screen but the habits and surroundings that shape how you operate.
Recap
Sharpening your craft comes from identifying the gaps and working on them with intention. Training the eye through mood boards and critique. Training the hand through drawing, rebuilding, and tool fluency. Letting osmosis shift your baseline by working near strong craft. Bringing that foundation into modern tools so they extend your ability rather than replace it.
A few things to carry forward:
Choose one specific gap and build a practice routine around it.
Train your eye through close looking and critique.
Train your hand by drawing and rebuilding interfaces.
Use your personal website and side projects as steady practice grounds.
Treat AI as something that scales craft, not something that stands in for it.
Sharpening craft is a steady loop: isolate, practice, observe, refine. The tools evolve. The fundamentals stay steady.
Hyperlinks + notes
Replit Design Mode | Gemini 3 is seriously impressive. Check out this website built in one shot
Making of a Founder: Julie Zhuo’s Second Act |
The Design Principle We Build Into Our Tools, But Ignore in Ourselves |
Nano Banana Pro changes the image generation game (again) | The Rundown
Congrats Gus Mueller, on Acorn being selected as an App Store Finalist
wow, fantastic share today - truly needed this inspiration and reminders 🖤