The first time I saw one of Viktor’s prototypes, I assumed it was a video. It moved like something a whole animation team had spent weeks on. He’d built it alone, in an afternoon, and it was already responsive.
Thinking in motion
Viktor’s interest in motion started with a simple frustration: static mockups never told him how something would actually feel. A button, a transition, a page change, all of it reads differently once it moves. So he started prototyping in code early, treating motion as a design decision rather than a finishing touch handed off at the end. That habit became central once AI models entered his workflow. Instead of hand-animating every keyframe, he describes the motion he wants in plain terms, the easing, the weight, the pause before something settles, and lets a model generate a first pass. He then refines it by hand, keeping what reads as intentional and rebuilding what doesn’t. The result is a much faster loop between idea and feeling. Where a motion study used to take a full afternoon, Viktor can now test five or six variations before lunch, comparing how each one actually feels rather than guessing from a still frame.
Motion either feels right or it doesn’t,
he says.
The faster I can feel it, the faster I can fix it.
Designing with the machine, not around it
As Viktor’s use of AI has matured, its role in his process has shifted. Early on, it was a shortcut, a way to skip the tedious parts of animation. Now it functions more like a sparring partner, generating options he wouldn’t have tried on his own, which he then edits down with a trained eye. He’s careful about where the line sits. The model can suggest a dozen ways an element might enter a screen, but it can’t tell him which one fits the brand, the rest of the interface, or the moment in the user’s journey. That judgment stays with him.
It doesn’t have taste,
he says.
But it’s very good at showing me what I hadn’t considered.
This back and forth shows up across his client work too, from early concept explorations to production-ready interactions. Clients get more variations to react to, faster, without the cost of hand-building each one from scratch. What used to be a limiting factor, the sheer time it takes to animate an idea, is no longer the bottleneck. The bottleneck is knowing which idea is worth keeping.
Slowing down to speed up
Viktor is quick to point out that none of this replaces the fundamentals. A good sense of timing, an eye for weight and rhythm, an understanding of why one transition feels calm and another feels urgent, these still come from years of paying close attention, not from any tool. What AI changes is how much of that attention gets to reach the screen. Fewer ideas die from the sheer effort of trying them. More get tested, compared, and refined before a client ever sees them. The craft is still his; the tool just clears a path to it faster. It’s the same principle that drew him to code in the first place, at fourteen, teaching himself to build things rather than waiting to be taught. Motion design with AI is, to him, just the newest version of the same instinct: understand the system well enough that it starts working for you instead of against you.