Interview with ChenYang Shen

The Sixth Dimension Studio is a digital design practice founded in 2019, and also the public creative identity through which I present my work. The name is guided by three core ideas: Trailblazing, Synergy and Details. To me, these words mean moving beyond familiar boundaries, connecting different creative disciplines, and treating detail as the place where a design becomes alive.
The studio focuses on high-fidelity model design, visual narrative design and game mod design. It is currently a one-person studio, not a traditional agency or company. This allows each project to keep a strong authorial direction, where modelling, visual language, interaction, storytelling and presentation are developed as parts of one coherent system.
The Sixth Dimension Studio also represents my wider creative framework. It gathers my interest in narrative design, philosophical thought and worldbuilding, while carrying my long-term hopes as an independent creator. Rather than being only a workplace, it is the structure through which I continue to build and organise my creative world.

To me, design becomes even more important in an age when technology is developing rapidly and many technical barriers are becoming lower. When production becomes more efficient, and when products and quality gradually begin to look similar, I often ask myself: what should we truly pursue?
My answer is design. I see design as a bridge between structure and feeling. It can solve problems, but it can also create atmosphere, identity and reflection. It should not be limited to appearance, decoration or technical execution. A strong design needs an inner logic, a reason to exist, and an emotional presence that allows people to remember it beyond the first impression.
I believe we should not only pursue similar products in a more efficient world. We should pursue designs that can stand out through technical consideration, emotional value, narrative depth, authorial identity and philosophical thought. Whether I work with visual design, digital worlds, model design or writing, I try to create works that are not only seen, but felt, remembered and reflected upon.
For me, design is a sincere emotional expression shaped through artistic language, structure and thought.

I enjoy writing and worldbuilding the most, because they can become frameworks of their own and continue to expand, allowing different creative skills to serve one central idea.
For me, a design becomes most exciting when it does not exist as an isolated object, but belongs to a higher dimension of meaning and a richer inner ecosystem. I am interested in works that have their own logic, atmosphere, emotion and philosophical significance.
This is also why many of my skills eventually developed around the same core purpose. From the outside, they may look like separate disciplines, but to me they are different media for building a complete world.
Whether the final result appears as a story, a digital model, a game system, a character, an environment or a symbolic object, I do not want it to be an empty shell or merely a product. I want it to become an integrated work with inner life.

At the moment, my favourite design is Enosichthon, because its meaning to me is exceptional.
Beneath its visible layers of industrial consideration, exterior design, narrative structure, interaction, material expression, biomimicry and philosophical thought, there is a central heart: my own trident grammar. This highly unified origin is closely connected to my personal creative journey.
Before Enosichthon existed, I was going through a difficult creative period. I felt exhausted, uncertain and full of self-doubt. I chose to retreat for a while into a virtual world I had loved since childhood. There, I encountered the trident again, and I saw the ocean as something bright, distant and deeply desirable. At the same time, I wanted to leave that low point. I wanted to fly above the sea, or dive beneath it. Then I realised that I still had the ability to create such a world.
That moment reignited my desire to design. From it, the trident grammar was born. It eventually ran through every part of Enosichthon, making it not an object decorated with symbols, but a design with inner narrative, self-consistent logic and a highly unified mechanical and emotional structure.
For me, Enosichthon is not only a final design outcome. It is also a process of beginning again. It is proof that even after a period of silence and broken confidence, a creator can learn to trust the wind again and cross the sea through design.

My first external commissioned project was not for a traditional company, but for a major gaming content creator. I created a custom vehicle mod for a well-known YouTuber, which became one of my earlier experiences of designing for someone outside my own personal creative practice.
Although the project was modest in scale, it was meaningful because it connected my digital modelling ability with a real content requirement. It also introduced me to a good friend, so the experience became valuable both creatively and personally.

This is quite a complex question for me, because I do not believe material preference can be separated from context. I can appreciate almost any material if it serves the right narrative, logic and design grammar. For me, material is not only a surface choice, but also a medium for atmosphere, depth and storytelling.
Technologically, I am deeply fascinated by hydrogen energy, controlled nuclear fusion, neutrino detection and carbon-14 dating, because they are connected to invisible forces, time, energy, dimensions and the hidden structures behind life and reality.
My favourite platforms are game engines and AI foundation models. They are becoming powerful creative and productive environments across many fields, helping me connect modelling, visualisation, interaction, narrative and systematic thinking into one coherent process.

I usually feel the most creative at night, especially after rain, when the air is quiet and slightly misty. When I am alone in that kind of atmosphere, with gentle music in the background, creativity often happens naturally rather than by force.
At those moments, it feels as if time is quietly bringing broken fragments back together. A sentence, a visual motif, a sound, a colour, a structure, a story or a philosophical thought may begin as separate pieces, but they gradually recover, merge and form a complete system. When that happens, I feel a strong desire to create.

During the design process, the most important thing for me is to keep questioning myself: what do I truly want to express, and how can I express it clearly?
I repeatedly examine what kind of story the work needs, whether its logic forms a closed and coherent system, and how its narrative, presentation and industrial precision can become more refined. Once this central direction is clear, I can then develop different branches of the design method around it.
For me, the focus is not only on making something visually attractive, but on making every part of the work serve the same core intention.

When I design, it feels as if I am holding a thin thread and searching through a bag filled with thousands of raw minerals. Each mineral is like a crystallised thought, memory, emotion, visual motif, technical problem or fragment of knowledge that I have collected over time. I choose them, polish them, carve them, and gradually place them onto the thread to form the work I am trying to create.
The emotions during this process are complex. There is focus, excitement and anxiety, but they are not usually expressed outwardly, because most of the process happens through deep thinking. More than anything, I often enter a state of self-forgetfulness, where I am less aware of myself and more aware of the work taking shape.
For me, designing is not only emotional expression. It is also the quiet process of turning scattered inner materials into a coherent form.

When one of my designs is realised, I usually feel a brief but very genuine sense of happiness and excitement. My designs are part of me, so seeing an idea finally become visible gives me a moment of joy and emotional connection.
After that, however, I usually become calm quite quickly. I start to look back at the work and ask myself why I made certain decisions, where it could have been stronger, and what I might improve if I were designing it again. In that sense, completion is never completely final for me.
I often continue to examine my past works, because I believe every finished design becomes a lesson for the next one. The happiness of completion is important, but the desire to refine, rethink and move forward is what keeps me creating.

I think a successful design can exist in two different forms: a successful commercial design and a successful artistic design.
A successful commercial design needs conversion, market recognition, industrial feasibility and forward-looking market value. It has to respond to real needs, production conditions and the expectations of users or buyers. This is good design on a material and practical level.
A successful artistic design is different. It depends on what the work wants to express, what kind of reflection it can offer, and whether it can bring new insight to the viewer’s understanding. I care about whether its imagery is built around a clear central motif, whether it proposes a new paradigm or answers an important question, and what kind of emotion it leaves behind. This is good design on a spiritual and intellectual level.
Both are valuable forms of good design. However, when a design can achieve both, when it can balance material success with spiritual depth, I believe it has the potential to become a masterpiece. Finding that balance is extremely difficult, but it is also one of the most meaningful goals in design.

When judging a design, I first consider whether it is faithful to the central motif or intention it proposes. I also try to understand whether it should be evaluated as a commercial design or as an artistic design, because the two require different standards.
For an artistic design, I look at the completeness of its artistic expression, the quality of its visual presentation, its emotional resonance, and whether it has a unique authorial identity. For a commercial design, I focus on industrial maturity, testing, function, usability, market relevance and whether it solves a real need.
I try to remain as objective as possible. Personal preference can exist, but only as a small weight in the judgement. Excessive ornamentation, chaotic elements or homogenised design may not be good, even if the presentation is visually impressive. Sometimes restraint, negative space and original content are more valuable than surface complexity.

I think the responsibility of a designer depends on whether we are speaking about a company, a team or an independent designer, because their resources are different. However, design is a form of expression, and I believe its core values should be positive, regardless of its scale, influence or commercial result.
An independent designer may not be able to provide complete industrial testing or solve every practical problem, but they can still propose ideas, respect the environment, raise awareness and encourage reflection. I believe protecting the ecological environment is necessary, and every design work has some influence on the public.
Even when design uses negative emotion, satire or criticism, it should have enough depth to create meaningful reflection. In that case, it can still be responsible design, only expressed in a different way.

I think the design field is moving in a clearly technology-driven direction. Digital infrastructure, wider access to culture, the development of AI, smart homes, embodied AI and other emerging technologies are making life more convenient, and they will also make design more imaginative and flexible.
However, I do not believe that the true future of design will be defined by high technology alone. As technology continues to develop, technical barriers will become lower, and more people will be able to create advanced products with powerful tools. When material conditions become abundant, saturated or even excessive, people may begin to seek designs that offer something deeper on a spiritual, emotional and intellectual level.
For this reason, I believe future design may place greater value on self-exploration, narrative meaning and original ideas. Technology will remain important, but the most irreplaceable part of design may come from the individual human being: personal thought, emotional depth, authorship and the ability to create something that cannot be simply copied. Behind every meaningful design, there should still be a sincere question: why do we design, and what does design mean?

I have not yet held a traditional physical exhibition. My work has mainly been presented through digital platforms, online portfolios, gaming communities and international design award submissions.
When my body of work becomes more complete and mature, I may consider preparing an exhibition that can properly represent my creative world and long-term direction.

For me, inspiration is not something I can fully control. I sometimes feel like an active dormant volcano: I do not know exactly when it will erupt. There are moments of dryness, and there are moments when ideas suddenly become clear and intense.
My inspiration comes from many fields, including animals, ecology, mythology, history, science, music, games, literature and the natural world. They are things I have seen, learnt and stored over time, forming an inner archive.
When I lack inspiration, I usually stop forcing the work. I may read, play music, enter a game world, review previous works or observe animals and natural phenomena. These help me return to that archive.
For me, having ideas and having inspiration are not the same. I have many ideas, but only the ones that can form a clear and executable framework in my mind become true inspiration.

I do not usually define my design style through one fixed visual appearance, because my works can vary greatly from one project to another. For me, the real style lies in the underlying logic: the central motif, the intended expression, the world the work belongs to, and its narrative and emotional direction.
Once these foundations are clear, the visual language, material expression, structure, details and presentation can develop around the core. Style is not an external decoration, but one of the media that serves the central idea.
I see it a little like montage: different arrangements of fragments can create completely different feelings and narratives, but the final effect should still serve the main motif. I want each work to have its own life, rather than simply wearing a repeated surface style. The main characteristics of my approach are narrative coherence, symbolic motifs, detailed digital craftsmanship, emotional atmosphere and internal logic.

I live in Hangzhou, China. In daily life, this environment is convenient, efficient and full of possibilities. The long cultural heritage of the place where I live has helped my philosophical thinking and cross-disciplinary learning, while the well-developed infrastructure and ecological environment also provide a strong foundation for creative work.
One of the main advantages is the almost futuristic contrast between tradition and modernity. Traditional culture, manufacturing capability, digitalisation, artificial intelligence and new technologies are developing very quickly and often exist close to each other. For a designer, this creates an inspiring environment where cultural depth and practical resources can support each other.
The challenges are mainly related to international presentation and the protection of original digital work. Access to international platforms can sometimes be less stable, and the geographical distance also makes fast communication with European design centres more difficult. For an independent designer, the timing and method of public release must also be considered carefully, because digital design can be copied quickly once it appears online.
These challenges push me to protect my authorship, express my ideas more clearly, and create work that can be understood across different cultural and digital environments.

When I work with companies or external clients, I prefer a clear, written and logical collaboration process. As an independent designer, I value defining the goals, requirements, timeline, deliverables and creative boundaries from the beginning.
My process starts with understanding what the company truly wants, not only visually, but also in terms of long-term value. I then choose the most suitable workflow according to the project’s needs.
I believe good collaboration should include staged feedback rather than repeated revisions caused by unclear direction. Mutual respect, clear communication and active cooperation are essential for creating a result that is coherent, efficient and meaningful.

I believe companies should first understand their own needs clearly before choosing a designer. They should know what they want to achieve, what kind of person they are looking for, and whether they can communicate their requirements clearly enough for the designer to understand. This is extremely important, because many problems in collaboration come not from design ability, but from unclear direction and communication.
When selecting a designer, I think the weight of evaluation should depend on the situation. In many cases, I would value conceptual thinking, communication and expressive ability before simply looking at skills, career history, education or age. Skills are important, but a designer’s way of thinking, ability to understand the problem, and ability to express ideas clearly are often even more important.
A company should also consider what kind of designer it truly needs. If the company needs someone for a stable internal role, the designer’s ability to follow project requirements, maintain consistency and support long-term progress may be the priority. If the company needs someone to bring new ideas, future-oriented thinking or conceptual innovation, then originality, insight and creative judgement may become more important.
Neither type is better than the other. The key is whether the company can define what a “good designer” means for its own situation. My suggestion is that education, career background and age should not be the only standards for judging a designer. Objective, fair and project-specific evaluation is much more important.

My design process can take different forms depending on the nature of the project. If the work is an extension or reinterpretation of an existing context, I usually begin with research. I study the background, original intention, visual language, structure and key references of the subject. After understanding its foundation, I then reshape and extend it according to what I want to express, rather than simply reproducing what already exists.
If the project is an original design, my process is different. I usually put direct references aside and first organise what I truly want to express. I try to understand the central motif, the emotional direction and the internal logic of the work. Then I gradually turn these thoughts into a tangible form, before refining the details.
For model design, I often begin inside modelling software with simple box forms, then gradually divide, adjust and develop the structure until the work takes shape. For visual design, I may first build a scene in a game engine, then refine the lighting, atmosphere, composition and presentation according to the intended expression. For writing, I usually begin with the central motif and then build the world structure around it. Characters often grow naturally from a closed and coherent world system.
For me, the process is not always linear. It is more like building a system from the inside out, allowing concept, structure, narrative, material and presentation to gradually find their correct positions.

My five favourite design items at home are my 88-key MIDI keyboard, my Bluetooth earphones, my computer tower, my ecological tank and a pair of pliers.

My daily life is not always fixed like a traditional schedule. As an independent creator, my day usually depends on the project I am working on and the state of my ideas at that moment.
I usually begin by walking my dog and taking care of my cat. After that, I may move between 3D modelling, rendering, writing, programming, research and learning. Sometimes I am actively producing work, and sometimes I am simply thinking, observing or trying to understand the next direction.
Some days are very technical, focused on structure, details and problem-solving. Other days are more conceptual, focused on narrative, atmosphere and worldbuilding. It may not be the most regular lifestyle, but it is very close to the way I create.

I am still growing myself, so I do not want to speak from a superior position. My suggestion to young designers is to protect your passion and curiosity. They are not childish, and interest is always one of the best teachers.
Train your ability to express yourself, keep thinking deeply, and do not allow material results alone to measure the value of your creative output. Not every good design needs immediate commercial return to be meaningful.
If you are thinking alone at night, remember that you are not truly alone. Your questions and unfinished ideas are already walking with you.

For me, the positive side of being a designer is that it gives me many different ways to understand the world. My inner world feels rich, I rarely feel bored, and creation helps me organise my thoughts and emotions. One very direct benefit is that, when I want something to exist, I can often try to design it myself.
The negative side is that this way of thinking is not always easy for others to understand. It can be difficult to define myself within traditional frameworks, especially because my work crosses many different fields, and this can sometimes feel lonely.
However, I believe the positive and negative sides are equal and connected. The same imagination that makes design meaningful can also make the designer feel different from others.

My golden rule is to ask myself what I truly want to express, what emotion I am carrying, and how I can express it clearly.
If the feeling is not right, I do not force the work forward, because forcing a design with an unclear inner direction can easily damage it.

I believe the most important skill for a designer is expression. It is not only about whether a designer can create something technically, but whether they can express an idea clearly and faithfully.
Skills can be learnt, and inspiration can be found, but the key ability is knowing how to choose, combine, develop and refine different methods after deep thinking. A designer needs to decide which skills and approaches should serve the work, and how to use them to express the original intention with high fidelity.

My toolbox is quite broad because my work moves across modelling, animation, rendering, programming, visual design, video production, music, writing and worldbuilding.
For modelling, my main tool is Autodesk Maya. Depending on file formats, technical needs or specific project requirements, I also use Autodesk Alias, Autodesk 3ds Max, Blender, ZBrush and Blockbench. Maya remains my primary modelling environment, but Java entity modelling and Blockbench workflows are also important parts of my practice, especially for game-related projects.
For animation and rigging, I use Maya and Blender, while Unreal Engine, Twinmotion and Unity are important for real-time presentation, cinematic sequences, environment testing and interactive visualisation. For programming, websites and technical development, I use IntelliJ IDEA, Visual Studio Code, Visual Studio, Cursor and Git Bash for testing and workflow support.
For drawing and visual design, I use Procreate on iPad, and Photoshop and Krita on PC. For video production, I usually build sequences in Unreal Engine, Maya Arnold or Twinmotion, then export and edit them with After Effects and Premiere Pro. When needed, I use HandBrake for compression and final delivery.
Typography is also part of my toolbox. For some of my works, I have designed custom typefaces by first creating vector forms in Adobe Illustrator and then developing them further in FontForge. For music and sound, I currently use Kontakt 8, while Audacity is useful for sound effects, audio editing and quick adjustments.
For writing, I especially enjoy using Obsidian with Markdown, then exporting the work to PDF when needed. Beyond software, my toolbox also includes books, mythology, history, ecology, science, animals, music, games, films and daily observation. I also use AI foundation models for research, organisation, language support and idea testing, but not as a replacement for authorship.

For me, the thinking stage is usually longer than the execution stage. I spend a lot of time understanding what I want to express, how the project should be structured, and whether the direction feels right. Once the inner logic becomes clear, the actual design work can often move much faster.
If my state is not right, I usually stop temporarily and continue thinking instead of forcing the work. When I begin a project, I also break the process into detailed modules and steps, so that the execution becomes clearer.

The time required depends on the type of design and the complexity of the project. Since I usually complete the full process alone, the timeline can be longer, but it also allows the concept, execution and final expression to remain highly consistent.
For a concept vehicle or complex model design, it may take around one to two months, depending on the level of detail, narrative density and philosophical depth. A website may take around one month, depending on the front-end, back-end, server deployment, analytics or other technical requirements. A video project with a rendering pipeline may take around two months, especially if it includes scene building, lighting, rendering, editing and post-production.
Music and writing can sometimes be faster, but I mainly create them for my own works, so I have not measured them with a fixed timeline.

The question I am asked most often is why I have not commercialised my work more actively, or why I have not expanded The Sixth Dimension Studio into a larger team. I think this question reflects the tension between creative independence, authorship and commercial growth.

My most important job experience did not come only from a traditional position, although I have had such experiences as well. The most important part came from my long-term practice of independently completing full creative projects.
Cross-disciplinary work has allowed me to look at problems from different perspectives and identities.

Most of my current work is self-initiated rather than client-commissioned, because The Sixth Dimension Studio is still mainly my independent creative practice.
I have completed some external commissioned work in digital modelling and game modding, including custom vehicle mod projects for content creators.
However, I do not currently present myself as a traditional agency with a long public client list.

The type of design work I enjoy most is narrative-driven digital design, especially work that allows worldbuilding, visual design, modelling, writing and technical execution to support one central idea.
I enjoy this kind of work because it gives me space to think on different levels at the same time. I can consider the object itself, but also the world behind it, the emotion it carries, the logic it follows and the way people may understand or remember it.
For me, the most satisfying design work is not only about completing a form. It is about building a coherent experience where structure, atmosphere, story and detail all become connected.

I hope my works can live longer than I do.
After spending a long time behind the scenes, I am now trying to step forward and allow people to better understand the person, thoughts and creative world behind the designs.

I currently develop my designs myself.
The Sixth Dimension Studio is a one-person creative practice at this stage. I am open to meaningful collaboration in the future, but my current core designs are developed by myself. This allows the work to remain closely connected to a single authorial vision.

Yes, I have several works in progress, but some of them are still too early and too personal to reveal in detail.
Alongside my digital design and model-based works, I am also developing a larger narrative project connected to literature, cinematic expression, visual systems, music and philosophical reflection.
I see it as a long-term worldbuilding work rather than a single object or product. It still needs time to mature, so for now I prefer to protect its structure and let it grow quietly before presenting it to the public.

The best way to contact me is by email at thesixthdimensionstudio@gmail.com.
For updates and selected works, people may follow my personal Instagram at @tiizzzeee, as well as The Sixth Dimension Studio on Instagram at @thesixthdimensionstudio.

I would like to say that I am still at the beginning of a long creative journey.
For many years, I worked quietly behind my designs, learning different skills, building my own systems and trying to protect the sincerity of my work. The Sixth Dimension Studio is not only a name I use to present my projects, but also a vessel for my long-term hopes, thoughts and creative direction.
I am grateful for every opportunity that allows my work to be seen and understood. My wish is to keep creating with honesty, depth and patience, and to build works that can remain meaningful beyond the moment in which they are made.
If my designs can make someone feel, think or remember something, then I believe they have already begun to live beyond me.