Alright, let’s talk about this Martin Muniz thing. It popped onto my radar a while back, not through some big announcement, but more like a whisper in the corners of the internet I frequent. I saw this image, some kind of data map maybe, that just looked… different. Not the usual clean lines and perfect circles. It had a bit of grit, felt almost alive.
Someone in the comments mentioned “Oh, that’s got that Martin Muniz vibe.” Naturally, I got curious. Who’s this Muniz guy? So, I started digging around. Wasn’t easy. No polished portfolio site, no tutorials, nothing like that. Just scattered mentions, maybe an old forum post, a credit on some obscure project.
From what I could piece together, it seemed like this person had a distinct approach, maybe to design, maybe to visualization, maybe something else entirely. The examples I found shared this organic, slightly imperfect feel. It wasn’t slick, but it was compelling. It looked like something made by hand, but with digital tools. I wanted to see if I could capture some of that essence myself.

Getting Hands-On
So, I decided to try and replicate the feel of it. Didn’t have a specific project, just wanted to experiment. I grabbed some old data I had – nothing fancy, just some relational stuff. The challenge was figuring out the how. What tools did Muniz use? Was it a specific software? A technique?
My Process Went Something Like This:
- First, I just stared at the few examples I could find. Tried to break down the elements. What made them look that way? Was it the textures? The line work? The color palette?
- I fired up my usual software. Tried Photoshop first, messing with brushes and layers to get that gritty texture. Then I thought, maybe it’s vector-based? Hopped over to Illustrator. Played with path settings, trying to avoid perfectly smooth curves.
- Spent a lot of time tweaking. Adjusting opacity, adding noise, layering different effects. It felt like cooking without a recipe. A dash of this, a pinch of that.
- I focused on making things look slightly off-kilter. Avoiding perfect symmetry. Letting lines overlap in slightly messy ways. It felt counterintuitive because usually, you strive for clean and precise.
Hitting Some Walls
Honestly, it was harder than I expected. My attempts often ended up looking just messy, not intentionally styled. It’s a fine line, apparently. Getting that specific balance of roughness and clarity that I saw in the Muniz examples? Really tricky.
I realized I was missing context. Without knowing the original purpose or the specific tools Muniz might have used, I was basically guessing. Maybe it wasn’t Photoshop or Illustrator at all. Maybe it involved some custom code, or a physical process first that was then digitized. Who knows?
There were moments I felt like I was getting close, where a certain combination of filters and effects started to look right. But then I’d try to apply it elsewhere, and it wouldn’t work the same way. Consistency was a real problem.

What I Got Out Of It
Did I manage to perfectly replicate the Martin Muniz style? Nope. Not even close, really. My results were interesting experiments, but they didn’t quite have that unique spark I was chasing.
But the whole exercise wasn’t a waste of time. Far from it. It forced me to step outside my usual workflow. To play with tools in ways I normally wouldn’t. To think about texture and imperfection as deliberate choices, not just errors to be fixed.
It reminded me that sometimes the most interesting results come from exploring those less-defined paths. Even though I couldn’t find a clear guide or tutorial for this “Muniz style,” the act of trying to figure it out taught me a few new tricks and, more importantly, pushed me to be more experimental in my own work. It’s good to chase these little inspirations, even if you don’t catch them exactly. You usually learn something valuable along the way.