In 2007, the iPhone entered the world. And so did Susan Campos at Prismatic.

I’m not saying those two events are directly related … but I will say both made life smarter, faster, and infinitely more interesting around here.

And the way Susan entered was a pretty novel experience in its own right. She was responding to our position seeking a part-time bookkeeper. Rather than send a résumé and letter of interest, she stopped by our office with her infant son, Carson, in tow. She played it off, saying she was on her way to Babies“R”Us, realized we were close, decided to drop off her résumé in person, and also pointed out a minor numbering discrepancy in our listing. Of course she did … she’s Susan!

Susan joined Prismatic shortly thereafter as our bookkeeper. Steady. Reliable. Numbers neatly aligned. Spreadsheets behaving themselves.

And then one day, in the most Susan way possible, she casually interjected, “I could help write that.”

Those of you who know Susan can already see where this is going.

That single sentence cracked open the neat little box we thought she fit into. Because it turns out, behind the bookkeeping brilliance was a creative mind with a razor-sharp eye, a Grammar Queen’s backbone, and a curiosity that refused to sit quietly in the corner.

About the same time that Instagram was created and ride-share apps debuted, transforming our world, so, too, did Susan’s role at Prismatic. From there, she became our Operations Director. But truthfully? She never fit neatly into that box either.

One of Susan’s superpowers has always been her memory. I lovingly call her our very own Encyclopedia Prismatica because she can pluck a story, a lesson, a client nuance, or a “remember that time in 2013 when…” out of thin air, at a moment’s notice. That memory, paired with her curiosity, made her not just operationally excellent but strategically indispensable.

She became my right-hand partner in creative crime.

Over 18 years, Susan’s fingerprints have been everywhere—in our market research frameworks, in the shaping of brand voice, in the delicate ironing out of tangled, swirly thoughts, in the extra “one more thing!” she always remembered right as you were walking out the door.

She could crack a joke about nearly anything, drop a movie reference on cue, and somehow make every teammate—from design to digital to admin—feel seen and supported.

She is down-to-earth in a way that can’t be taught. Zero ego. All heart. And contagious positivity—the kind that builds people, not just projects.

If you joined Prismatic at any point in the last 18 years, chances are Susan was your translator, your historian, your safety net, your brainstorming partner, or your calm voice saying, “Okay, let’s noodle this.”

Now let’s zoom out for a moment.

Since Susan joined in 2007, we’ve weathered recessions and a global pandemic. She was here when our team could fit around one small conference table—just five of us with big ideas and scrappy determination, and she helped steward us into the thriving, 15-person daytime family we are today, spanning four states and countless chapters of growth and evolution.

That’s a lot of history. And through it all, Susan was steady. Evolving with us. Shaping us. Challenging us. Supporting us.

But here’s the truth I want to say most clearly: Susan has spent 18 years pouring her care into this agency and into me. Into our clients. Into our team. Into the width and depth of Prismatic’s story. And now, with the same proactivity that defines the way our paths first crossed, she’s closing this chapter to pursue whatever life has in store next.

My wish for her echoes what so many of our teammates have said in different ways: that she pours that same care into herself. That she travels. That she rests. That she laughs. That she experiences not just the length of her days, but the width of them.

Susan, you have been more than an Operations Director.

More than a proofreader.

More than a creative partner.

You have been a co-author of Prismatic’s story.

And while we are going to miss your dad jokes, your ‘80s trivia, your “what was I going to say to you…” drive-bys, and your beautifully timed one-liners, we are overwhelmingly proud of you.

Thank you for 18 extraordinary years.

Now go live a story even Encyclopedia Prismatica couldn’t have predicted.

With love and a lifetime of gratitude,

Steph