Debbie Millman has an ongoing project at PRINT titled “What Matters.” This is an effort to understand the interior life of artists, designers, and creative thinkers. This facet of the project is a request of each invited respondent to answer ten identical questions and submit a nonprofessional photograph.
Dave Snyder is Head of Design at product innovation studio Siberia. He is an award-winning design executive with 25 years of experience developing high-performance in-house and agency teams, focused on building modern brands and products for multi-billion dollar companies. His design and creative work is wide-ranging, from digital-first, integrated marketing campaigns, content, and e-commerce to immersive interactive experiences in VR and AR; to digital products for L’Oreal, PepsiCo, Beats, Slice, and Twitter.
What is the thing you like doing most in the world?
Cooking.
I love cooking for people. It’s one of the few things where time melts away, and I’m completely in the moment. Am I great at cooking with others? No. It’s definitely a solo endeavor for me. Grilling a high-quality steak, slowly, over hardwood charcoal is perhaps what I enjoy most. There you are, cooking this significant piece of meat that costs a lot—friends eagerly waiting. You can’t fuck it up. I love that pressure. Then, sharing the bounty together. Pure magic—the ultimate gift, to be honest.
What is the first memory you have of being creative?
Well, it certainly wasn’t in math class.
I was lucky to get a computer in 5th grade, an Apple IIgs (I’ll let you do the math on that). I remember falling in love with a game called King’s Quest. That game may have sparked my love for interactive experiences. You had to type out commands back then, which forced a different type of thinking that suited my brain. I remember realizing the game world wasn’t infinite and would loop at a certain number of screens both up and down. So, I mapped out the world on paper and documented key actions for those screens. It covered my wall. I rescued the princess.
What is your biggest regret?
I’m not one to dwell on the past; I’m far too busy being anxious about the maybe-possibly-happening future. Ha.
But my wife and I often talk about how we wish we had moved to NYC earlier (we’re into our 16th year here now). NYC made me a better human, a better (bigger) thinker. It pushed me to be a better designer and creative. We raised a kid here. NYC makes you strong in ways you didn’t know you needed.
How have you gotten over heartbreak?
Yes. When my son quit skateboarding. This wasn’t just about him quitting something I love and loved doing with him—skateboarding. It was more about realizing he is growing up and pulling away. Each day, we’d spend a little less time together. It’s the natural order, but man does it suck when that day arrives.
That said, once a skater, always a skater. Recently, on vacation in northern Italy, he pointed out a pretty dope street spot: “Dad, did you see that perfect double-set?” He hadn’t mentioned skating in a year. I was stoked (though I didn’t show it). I gave my wife a wink. Once you’re a skater, you see the world through a different lens, and he’s blessed with that for life, whether he realizes how rad that is or not.
What makes you cry?
The above.
How long does the pride and joy of accomplishing something last for you?
I’m trying hard to find pride and joy in accomplishment—whatever that means. I’ve never been good at taking compliments; it’s something I still struggle with. I get awkward.
I tend to finish something and want to immediately move on—to its next iteration or the next problem. I’m restless that way.
Only now, with time, do I look back and think, “Holy shit. I actually did some rad things. Some special things. Fourteen design patents even. I’ve been on remote oil platforms deep in the Gulf. I’ve raced Bristol Motor Speedway. I’ve snowboarded in the backcountry with Olympians.”
Getting old is funny. You start to appreciate all the things you’d long forgotten until someone asks you to remember.
Do you believe in an afterlife, and if so, what does that look like to you?
I’m not entirely sure. I tend to be more pragmatic. I often joke that you can ‘toss me in the burn barrel when I die.’
The idea that as one door closes, another opens is compelling. I’ve done the Ayahuasca thing. In the foothills below Mount Potosi in Bolivia. Quite the intense experience, I must say. The next morning, the shaman guide said I visited “hell.” After puking a bit, I was sucked into a vortex of darkness. I felt every cell of my body stripped away, like being de-particalized except for my awareness of self—my mind still present—floating as nothing. Amongst infinite nothingness. Hearing—feeling—the screams and suffering of every soul that came before. And after me. Their tears of love and happiness too, before getting sucked back out of the darkness into the warm fire lit glow of the kiva I lay in.
If that’s any indication of what comes next, I’d rather pass.
So while I feel faith, a belief in an afterlife is ultimately a crutch to get us through today—and worse, a reason to justify harm tomorrow—I don’t hate the idea that after we die, we transition to something else entirely, much like moving from one room to another. Or a child leaving his mother’s womb. But I’m quite content knowing that I’ll likely just be a pile of ash and a memory soon forgotten.
What do you hate most about yourself?
I hate that I’ve spent so much of my 47 years worrying about everything. That said, I have to appreciate that my anxiety helped shape who I am. Anxiety made me grow, made me better, but it didn’t make me happy deep down. I can be very hard on myself in the most unpleasant ways. But I always wore a smile. I always had a joke. But if you bury enough garbage, it eventually spills out of the landfill.
In the last couple of years, something finally clicked. And I’m happy. I just like making great things and being with great people. If that’s not in the equation, bye.
What do you love most about yourself?
I like to think I’m there for people—friends, coworkers (past and present). I’ve been lucky to see a lot of interesting experiences in my career. So when people ask for life or career advice, or just want to share something, to catch up over a drink, I’m there. I don’t know if I have answers, but I most likely have an interesting story. And now, finally, I feel like I’m here for myself too.
I’m definitely a ride-or-die homie. To a fault!
What is your absolute favorite meal?
A Beefeater martini with a twist and steak tartare with frites. The tartare is classically French. So are the frites. Aioli for dipping. We can sub the tartare for a classic cheeseburger, as long as I’m splitting it with someone—preferably my wife of 20 years. A good bottle of red wine nearby.
It’s an early reservation. 5:30 pm is fine by me. We’re seated at the bar, ideally in a corner spot so we can dine and chat with two friends. My teenage son is there, 50% less occupied with his phone than normal. 75% fewer “bruhs.”
I’m not a dessert person, but I am an amaro person. So as the conversations roll on, we sip something appropriate.