Future Pixels
of America

An ongoing graphic design and glitch art practice spanning more than a decade—posters, playlist covers, print pieces and a long run of experiments in controlled image failure.

type graphic design / glitch art
role design, art direction
tools photoshop, illustrator, hex editors, code
year 2014–25
Glitch art composition titled No Sudden Revelations

overview

Future Pixels of America is the name I've made personal graphic design under for over ten years. Posters, playlist and album cover art, print pieces, and a continuous thread of glitch work: images broken on purpose and then edited back toward composition.

glitch as a method

The glitch pieces start with damage—corrupted file headers, misread encoders, pixel sorts, datamoshed video frames. What makes it design rather than accident is everything after: choosing which failures to keep, layering them, and pulling type across the result until the piece reads as deliberate.

The Future Pixels of America wordmark in blackletter type, databent into high-contrast noise over a photographed stone arch.
Layered databent type, black and white, letterforms broken into horizontal scan bands.
No Sudden Revelations: a corrupted street scene in grey and black with pixel-sorted colour channel breaks and heavy display type across the lower half.
Databending study: a landscape pushed into green and violet channel shifts with sorted pixel runs.
A grid of nine glitch studies, each a different corruption method applied to the same photographic source.

FIG_01 — Selected glitch compositions

cover art

A lot of the output is cover art for playlists, mixes and records. The format is a useful constraint: one square that has to read at wall size and at thumbnail, and carry a mood before anyone reads a word. It's where the glitch work stays most disciplined, because the image still has to hold together after heavy compression.

Dance on our Graves: a black glitched hand on electric blue with hand-drawn distressed lettering.
Queen Black Acid: a halftoned black and white portrait with a bright red gestural blot and red serif titling.
my girl, autumn: a single orange leaf isolated against a dark, grain-heavy night frame.
What Does Your Soul Look Like: a figure dissolved into green scanlines and dotted grid, framed on salmon pink.
Album packaging for Benjamin Krogh's Good Medicine: a house photograph wrapped on a sleeve with the record half pulled out.

FIG_02 — Playlist and album covers

The print side is quieter and more typographic: gig posters, invitations, one-off pieces for people I know. Designing for a physical output forces decisions the screen lets you postpone, like real margins and real ink limits, with no fixing it after it ships.

CONFLUX Q3 poster: Craftsmanship set in large type above a white sculptural form with a red mark, on black.
Save the date card: two strips of black and white photo booth pictures beside heavy type and a green rose.

FIG_03 — Poster and print pieces

outcome

Ten years of it, still going. The professional work runs on systems and consensus; this runs on taste and speed, and the two feed each other more than they compete.