OK, to understand the thinking behind the Küla 'K' it's probably useful to know what the word means. When I was searching for a studio name I had a couple of aims in mind; I wanted something with a Baltic flavour, to reflect the identity of Liverpool's creative neighbourhood, the Baltic Triangle – I didn't have a studio in the area at the time, I was working from a spare bedroom in New Brighton, but I knew I wanted to be around other creative businesses (and the clients who would be looking for us) so I thought it might feel like I was at least looking in the right direction. Another factor is that I wasn't doing this on my own, there used to be eight or nine people loosely involved in Küla, so I wanted a name that would reflect the community element of the project. 

Küla is an Estonian word that translates into English as 'village' but, I'm told, it can also be used to describe visiting friends, or having guests round. I figured that, as Liverpool is the kind of city where you run into the same people again and again – a city where everyone seems to know each other – a reminder that I'm in an oversized fishing village would help me to do the best work I can and try not to piss off too many people. I wanted to be able to bump into an old client without any weirdness, and that can only really happen if you did your best for them when they were paying you for your time. 

So, my logo design research looked to the Baltic States, Scandinavia and Eastern Europe for inspiration; I especially love vintage mid-century furniture logos (who doesn't?), 1960s niche publishers' logos, and the slightly awkward, handmade appearance of old Soviet car registration plates (again, who doesn't?). The first 'K' sketch had some of the awkward proportions I was looking for, but it still needed something to give it some character. Once the umlauts were pinched from above the U, things fell into place and I felt it was unique enough to serve as Küla's primary identifying mark. The umlauts also gave the logo the appearance of a talkative robot's head, which was kind of a happy accident, unless you think that's the best thing about it, in which case it was entirely intentional.