Elon Musk digital mosaic portrait for TIME magazine's Person of the Year special issue.
In a world hungry for outrage and short on context, I try to stay on the side of optimism. That’s not a branding exercise. It’s a choice I make—daily, professionally, personally—as a visual designer and storyteller.
My work is about honoring people and capturing hope. I build digital mosaics to illuminate what's best in us: curiosity, courage, and creativity. That doesn't mean I'm blind to flaws. But when I create, I choose to elevate—not to flatter but to encourage.
This is why I rarely write about people who are disappointing me.
But here we are.
This is why I rarely write about people who are disappointing me.
But here we are.
Admiration Comes Before Disappointment
I believe in role models. I believe in ideals, even if we never reach them. I've paid tribute to many of mine through mosaic art: Steve Jobs, George Orwell, Bruno Munari, Barack Obama… All deeply imperfect people. But I admired something in each of them. Something they gave to the world.
In the 2010s, Elon Musk joined that list.
He dared to solve problems we all thought were unsolvable. Electric cars. Private spaceflight. Solar energy. He wasn't the first to try—but he was the first to make the world believe.
And I believed, too.
As an artist, I was drawn to his vision. I created mosaics of SpaceX rockets and Tesla roadsters. I followed his trajectory with curiosity, admiration, and even affection. I felt proud when TIME Magazine later asked me to illustrate Musk as Person of the Year. It was part of a long collaboration with TIME, dating back to 2008.
That portrait is still part of my portfolio. You can see it here: tsevis.com/editorial-illustration-2020-2021
But it's also part of a shift.
In the 2010s, Elon Musk joined that list.
He dared to solve problems we all thought were unsolvable. Electric cars. Private spaceflight. Solar energy. He wasn't the first to try—but he was the first to make the world believe.
And I believed, too.
As an artist, I was drawn to his vision. I created mosaics of SpaceX rockets and Tesla roadsters. I followed his trajectory with curiosity, admiration, and even affection. I felt proud when TIME Magazine later asked me to illustrate Musk as Person of the Year. It was part of a long collaboration with TIME, dating back to 2008.
That portrait is still part of my portfolio. You can see it here: tsevis.com/editorial-illustration-2020-2021
But it's also part of a shift.
When Ego Outpaces Vision
Something changed. What had started as boldness became something else, louder, cruder. Musk's rhetoric grew erratic. His actions are more troubling. Not an inventor's eccentricity but a man's performance consumed by his reflection.
He once stood for experimentation. Now, it felt like he stood for provocation.
I saw the ego growing. The irony is that Elon once named it himself. During a spat with a Trump adviser, Musk fired back with a surprisingly wise critique:
"A PhD in Econ from Harvard is a bad thing, not a good thing… it results in the ego/brains >> 1 problem."
He was right. The ego/brains >> 1 problem is real.
And I wish Elon would repeat that line to his reflection in the mirror. Slowly. Daily.
It's the solution right there in the formula.
He once stood for experimentation. Now, it felt like he stood for provocation.
I saw the ego growing. The irony is that Elon once named it himself. During a spat with a Trump adviser, Musk fired back with a surprisingly wise critique:
"A PhD in Econ from Harvard is a bad thing, not a good thing… it results in the ego/brains >> 1 problem."
He was right. The ego/brains >> 1 problem is real.
And I wish Elon would repeat that line to his reflection in the mirror. Slowly. Daily.
It's the solution right there in the formula.
"Photomosaic Art: Elon Musk’s Space Vision, crafted from SpaceX rocket launches and cosmic scenes.
Technological Tapestry: A Photocollage of Elon Musk, showcasing SpaceX missions and space exploration.
The Cost of Mythmaking
I don't believe in destroying people, not even those who disappoint us, especially not in their lowest moments. Even the most powerful human, Elon Musk, is still a human.
But I do believe in accountability. And when a man with that much power starts saluting in ways that echo fascism or platforming dangerous disinformation, we can't afford to stay silent.
This isn't politics. It's responsibility. Responsibility is part of design, part of art. When I build a mosaic, I'm not just placing shapes; I'm placing meaning.
And I now ask myself: Did I help build the myth? Did my portraits contribute to the illusion?
That question hurts. But I'd rather face it than pretend it's not there
But I do believe in accountability. And when a man with that much power starts saluting in ways that echo fascism or platforming dangerous disinformation, we can't afford to stay silent.
This isn't politics. It's responsibility. Responsibility is part of design, part of art. When I build a mosaic, I'm not just placing shapes; I'm placing meaning.
And I now ask myself: Did I help build the myth? Did my portraits contribute to the illusion?
That question hurts. But I'd rather face it than pretend it's not there
Leaving Room for Redemption
I'm not removing the portraits. They're part of my journey. Part of a moment in time. They remind me that we can all misjudge even with research, intuition, and intent. And that's human too.
But I don't want to end with bitterness. That's not who I am.
I want to end with hope.
Maybe this is the moment Elon Musk needs to look inward and not double down. To soften the armor. To reconnect with the person he was before the noise. Before the fanboys. Before the mirror swallowed the man.
Because we all deserve a second chance. Not necessarily for success. But for something better.
In a world hungry for outrage and short on context, I try to stay optimistic. That's not a branding exercise. It's a choice I make daily, professionally, personally as a visual designer and storyteller.
For happiness.
But I don't want to end with bitterness. That's not who I am.
I want to end with hope.
Maybe this is the moment Elon Musk needs to look inward and not double down. To soften the armor. To reconnect with the person he was before the noise. Before the fanboys. Before the mirror swallowed the man.
Because we all deserve a second chance. Not necessarily for success. But for something better.
In a world hungry for outrage and short on context, I try to stay optimistic. That's not a branding exercise. It's a choice I make daily, professionally, personally as a visual designer and storyteller.
For happiness.
Digital Mosaic Mastery: Elon Musk’s Cosmic Journey, woven from fiery rockets and cool blues.
Charis Tsevis is a visual designer and digital mosaic artist based in Athens and working internationally. He collaborates with magazines, agencies, and brands to tell visual stories—often through portraits built from hundreds or thousands of symbolic images.
His work has appeared in publications like TIME, WIRED, and Fortune, and in campaigns for companies, causes, and cultural institutions around the world.
But most of all, he’s interested in people—and in how art can honor them.