briana jones

The six levers of persuasion show up everywhere in product UI once you know to look. Reciprocity and social proof do most of the heavy lifting.

The same Cialdini patterns, mapped to dark UX. Useful as a checklist of things not to do — and a quiet reminder of when I'm tempted.

If a user has to stop and think about your interface, you've already lost them. The best UI is the one that disappears.

No record is neutral. Every history — and every product — carries the frame of the people who built it. A reminder I come back to in research and design reviews.

Two societies, one fence. The book that taught me how systems quietly shape the people inside them — and how design can do the same, for better or worse.

Aliens are cool.

Color, water, and silence used as character. Every frame composed like a still life — the design language says what the dialogue can't.

Watercolor as motion. The brushwork breaks apart with the protagonist's grief — animation language carrying the story when words can't.

Every staircase means something. A masterclass in production design as plot — vertical space carries the politics.

A whole town built as a frame within a frame — pastel sets, suspicious lens flares, soft-pop architecture. The production design tells the story before any line does.

The painted backgrounds and Rankin-Bass linework are a study in mood-as-storytelling. Soft, strange, and committed to its design language in a way modern animation rarely is.

I find this so funny — comfort comedy on a loop. The killer-rabbit scene is my favorite joke ever; perfectly cut, perfectly absurd.