Interview with Yian Xiang

My interest in design began very naturally through drawing, typography, images, and visual culture. Since childhood, I was sensitive to how images could carry emotion before I fully understood what design was. At first, I was attracted to visuals themselves, but later I became more interested in how visual systems influence perception, memory, behavior, and atmosphere.
This curiosity gradually led me toward graphic design, branding, and identity systems. My education also shaped this path deeply. Studying design in both China and the United States helped me understand different ways of thinking: one more symbolic and emotionally layered, the other more focused on clarity, reduction, and structure.
I think what drove me to become a designer was not only the desire to make beautiful things, but also the desire to create meaningful systems. I became interested in how design can quietly shape how people feel, move, understand, and remember an experience.

There are three aspects I care about most when designing: emotional clarity, structural coherence, and adaptability across context.
First, I always try to understand the emotional tone of a project before deciding its visual form. I ask what the work should make people feel, not only what it should look like.
Second, I focus heavily on structure: typography, hierarchy, spacing, rhythm, proportion, and the relationships between elements. I believe good design should feel intentional even in very small details.
Third, I care about whether a design system can live across different formats and environments. A strong identity should not only work as a single image. It should remain coherent across packaging, space, digital platforms, motion, and real-world applications.
My process usually combines observation, sketching, digital tools, and refinement. I use tools such as Adobe Creative Suite, Figma, motion and prototyping tools, and increasingly AI-assisted workflows for research and iteration. But I still value notebooks, physical references, material samples, and hand sketching because early ideas often appear more honestly before they become polished.

Designing feels quiet and deeply focused to me. It is not always an immediately exciting process. Often, it feels like entering a state of concentration where I slowly begin to see relationships between elements more clearly.
There is also uncertainty. Many meaningful projects require testing, editing, and refinement before the right tone appears. I actually think that uncertainty is an important part of the process because it forces me to keep questioning whether the design is truly working.
The most exciting moment is usually when a vague emotional direction finally becomes a clear system. I enjoy the moment when scattered ideas start to connect and the project begins to develop its own internal logic. When the final work is realized in physical space, packaging, or a digital environment, I often feel relief first, then happiness. It is rewarding to see people respond emotionally to something even if they cannot immediately explain why.

My cross-cultural background has shaped me the most. Growing up within Chinese visual and cultural contexts made me sensitive to symbolism, emotional layering, and historical meaning. Living and studying in the United States helped me develop a stronger understanding of reduction, clarity, structure, and functional precision.
This combination allows me to move between emotional expression and formal restraint. Much of my work exists between those two conditions.
Outside of traditional design skills, I think observation, communication, cultural awareness, and patience are extremely important. Observation helps me notice subtle patterns in daily life, behavior, space, and visual culture. Communication helps me understand clients and collaborators beyond surface-level requests. Cultural awareness helps me design with more sensitivity. Patience is important because strong design often comes through editing and refinement rather than immediate inspiration.
My journey has been a gradual process of moving from visual expression toward system thinking. Over time, I became less interested in isolated visuals and more interested in how design can create coherent emotional and behavioral experiences.

My practice is centered on international and cross-disciplinary work, with a particular focus on the relationship between branding, physical space, product behavior, cultural experience, and digital interaction.
In the future, I want to continue building design systems that feel emotionally human while remaining clear, restrained, and adaptable. I hope to work on projects that are not limited to one medium, but can extend across identity, spatial experience, product, publishing, motion, and digital platforms.
My dream design project would be a complete cultural or lifestyle experience: something that includes brand identity, exhibition space, physical objects, digital interaction, storytelling, and public engagement. I am interested in projects where design does not simply decorate a product or space, but shapes the entire atmosphere and relationship between people and the experience.
I hope to be remembered as a designer who created work with emotional sensitivity, structural clarity, and long-term coherence.

My advice to young designers is to spend less time chasing style and more time developing judgment.
Trends change very quickly, and tools change even faster. But the ability to think clearly, organize information, edit carefully, and understand emotional tone will remain valuable. A beautiful image is not enough if the idea behind it is weak or if the system cannot hold together.
I would also warn young designers not to confuse visibility with depth. In the current design environment, it is easy to feel pressured to constantly show work, follow trends, or produce fast visuals. But real growth often happens through slower processes: reading, observing, testing, failing, refining, and learning how to explain your decisions.
One important piece of advice I have learned is that design is not only about adding. Very often, it is about knowing what to remove. Restraint is not a lack of personality. It is a way to create focus.

I would suggest that designers continue to build strong personal judgment rather than relying only on tools, trends, or visual references.
Good design usually comes from clear thinking before visual execution. Before starting a project, it is important to define the emotional tone, the audience, the context, the behavior, and the long-term purpose of the system. Without that foundation, even visually impressive work can become superficial.
I also think designers should avoid over-designing. Sometimes the strongest solution is not the loudest one. A successful design often depends on proportion, pacing, hierarchy, and restraint. Small decisions can completely change how a project feels.
Another important practice is to keep learning outside design. Architecture, film, literature, fashion, urban life, product behavior, and cultural research can all expand the way we think. The more we understand the world beyond design, the more meaningful our design work becomes.
Finally, I believe designers should see themselves not only as visual makers, but also as strategic and cultural thinkers. Our work shapes perception, behavior, memory, and emotion. That responsibility requires clarity, sensitivity, and long-term thinking.

My daily routine usually begins with movement and observation. I like to start the morning by stretching or running, because physical movement helps me clear my mind before entering a long day of visual work.
After that, I usually review emails, organize priorities, and look through references, design news, exhibitions, publications, or cultural projects that might relate to my current work. I do not treat inspiration as something separate from daily life. It often comes from small observations: a street sign, a storefront, packaging, a book layout, a conversation, or the rhythm of a city.
Professionally, my day is often divided between research, visual development, refining design systems, client communication, and reviewing details. On a quieter business day, I actually enjoy the small moments of clarity: finding the right type scale, adjusting spacing until it feels balanced, discovering a useful reference, or seeing a system become more coherent after many small edits.
The little things that make me happy during the workday are usually subtle: good natural light, a strong cup of coffee, a well-organized file, a clean layout, or the moment when a difficult visual problem finally becomes simple.

I pay attention to design trends, but I try not to be controlled by them. Trends are useful because they reveal shifts in culture, technology, consumer behavior, and visual language. They show what people are responding to at a particular moment. However, I do not believe a strong design should depend only on what feels fashionable this season.
For me, trends matter as signals, not rules. I observe them through design platforms, exhibitions, books, fashion, architecture, product design, digital culture, and everyday visual environments. I am interested in understanding why a certain visual direction becomes popular rather than simply repeating its surface.
My own work tends to focus more on long-term coherence, emotional clarity, and system thinking. I want my projects to feel current, but not temporary. A good brand or identity system should have enough flexibility to evolve with time, but it should also have a strong internal logic that allows it to remain meaningful beyond a trend cycle.

For me, good design creates clarity without losing emotional depth. It should make something easier to understand, easier to use, or easier to feel connected to.
When I evaluate a product, project, or experience, I first look at whether the design feels intentional. Every element should have a reason to exist. I pay attention to hierarchy, proportion, rhythm, materiality, behavior, and whether the design language remains coherent across the whole system.
The 'aha' moment for me usually happens when a design feels effortless but, at the same time, carefully considered. It does not need to announce how clever it is. It simply works, communicates, and creates the right emotional tone.
A common mistake is over-designing. Adding more elements does not always create more meaning. Another mistake is focusing too much on visual impact without considering long-term usability, consistency, or emotional experience. Strong design is not only about attraction. It is also about trust, clarity, and durability.

I decide a design is ready when the system feels coherent, the emotional tone is clear, and further changes no longer improve the work in a meaningful way.
I do not think design is ever absolutely complete. There is almost always another adjustment that could be made. However, at a certain point, the project reaches a level of clarity where continued changes may only create noise rather than improvement.
For me, readiness is not about perfection. It is about whether the design can function in the real world. Can it communicate clearly? Can it adapt across different applications? Does it maintain its emotional tone? Does every element feel necessary? If the answer is yes, then the design is ready to move forward.
A project becomes successful when it continues to work after the first moment of attention has passed. If people can remember it, use it, feel connected to it, and understand its purpose without excessive explanation, then I consider it successful.

One of the projects I am especially proud of is Sunday Park, a branding project that received the MUSE Gold Award and the A’ Design Award. I see it as one of my most meaningful works because it reflects my interest in building identity systems through rhythm, proportion, restraint, and emotional atmosphere.
The initial aspiration was to create a brand system that felt warm, approachable, and memorable without relying on overly obvious graphic gestures. I wanted the design to feel calm but not empty, structured but not cold.
The process involved careful attention to typography, spacing, pacing, material feeling, and how the identity could behave across physical and visual applications. The challenge was to maintain emotional softness while keeping the system visually clear and controlled.
What makes the project special to me is that its strength does not come from one dramatic visual element. It comes from the relationships between details. That kind of quiet coherence is something I deeply value in design.
I am also excited about current explorations that connect branding with physical experience, lifestyle identity, digital interaction, and cultural storytelling. I am interested in projects where design can shape atmosphere rather than only visual recognition.

I admire designers and artists who create strong systems of thinking, not only beautiful images. I am especially interested in people whose work has influenced how we understand visual culture, structure, and modern life.
I admire designers such as Dieter Rams for his clarity, restraint, and long-term thinking. His work shows how design can be quiet, functional, and deeply human at the same time. I also admire Kenya Hara for his sensitivity to emptiness, materiality, and perception. His work has a poetic quality that goes beyond surface aesthetics.
I am also inspired by designers and artists who work across disciplines, especially those who move between identity, space, objects, publishing, and culture. If I had the chance to speak with a designer from the past, I would be interested in speaking with Dieter Rams about restraint, responsibility, and how to make work that remains meaningful over time.

I currently live in Los Angeles, and I find the city very inspiring because it contains many different visual and cultural rhythms at once. There is a mix of architecture, sunlight, movement, film culture, immigrant communities, independent brands, and everyday street life. That diversity affects the way I observe design.
My Chinese cultural background also deeply influences my work. It made me sensitive to symbolism, emotional layering, and the relationship between visual form and cultural memory. Living in the United States has also shaped my understanding of clarity, structure, and reduction. Much of my design language exists between these two perspectives.
Music, film, books, exhibitions, and walking through the city are all part of my creative process. I also believe design has made my daily life more intentional. Small things such as better lighting, a more comfortable workspace, a thoughtfully designed notebook, or a well-balanced routine can create positive changes over time.
Good design is necessary for society because it shapes how people interact with information, space, objects, and each other. It can reduce confusion, create dignity, improve accessibility, and make everyday experiences more meaningful.

My work culture is based on clarity, trust, and thoughtful collaboration. I do not see design as decoration added at the end of a project. I see it as a process of alignment between strategy, emotion, behavior, and visual language.
Depending on the scale of the project, I may work independently or collaborate with partners, clients, writers, developers, photographers, or production teams. I value collaborators who are curious, responsible, open to discussion, and willing to refine ideas carefully.
When working with clients or partners, I look for mutual respect and clear communication. Strong design usually requires enough space for exploration, testing, and refinement. It is important that everyone understands the long-term purpose of the project rather than focusing only on immediate visual outcomes.
The core challenge of this profession is balancing creative intuition with practical constraints. A good designer should have visual sensitivity, but also patience, communication skills, cultural awareness, and the ability to make decisions under complexity. Good design requires both imagination and discipline.

I believe designers can contribute to society by making information, culture, and experience more accessible, thoughtful, and human.
For me, giving back does not always need to be large or highly visible. It can happen through supporting young designers, participating in educational or cultural design events, sharing knowledge, giving feedback, or contributing design thinking to community-oriented projects.
I believe artists, designers, and architects should involve themselves in humanitarian and social projects when they can. Design has the ability to shape perception and behavior, so it can also help create more inclusive, caring, and responsible environments.
What I value most about good design is that it can quietly improve people’s lives. It can make a public space easier to navigate, a message easier to understand, a cultural project more engaging, or an everyday object more comfortable to use. These small improvements can accumulate into meaningful social value.

Participating in the A’ Design Award was a meaningful experience because it allowed my work to be seen within an international design context. It was encouraging to have the project recognized by a broader audience and evaluated alongside work from many different disciplines and countries.
For designers, I think there are three main benefits of participating in design awards and competitions.
First, competitions create visibility. They allow designers to share their work beyond their immediate network and reach new audiences, collaborators, and opportunities.
Second, they create reflection. Preparing a project for an award requires you to articulate your concept, process, impact, and design decisions clearly. That process helps you understand your own work more deeply.
Third, they create professional validation. Recognition from a respected platform can support a designer’s career, build credibility, and encourage future growth.
I think design competitions are important because they document and celebrate design as a serious cultural and professional practice. Being recognized as Designer of the Day feels very meaningful. It is not only a personal honor, but also a moment to reflect on the journey behind the work and the responsibility to continue creating with clarity, sensitivity, and purpose.

I am motivated by the way design can quietly shape perception, memory, emotion, and behavior. Since childhood, I was sensitive to images and visual culture, even before I understood design as a discipline. Over time, I became interested not only in making things look beautiful, but in creating systems that help people understand, feel, and connect. I became a designer because design gives me a way to translate abstract emotions and complex ideas into clear, meaningful experiences.

I chose to become a designer. It felt like a natural path rather than a forced one. My interest began with drawing, images, typography, and observation, and then slowly developed into a more serious commitment through education and practice. I think design chose me in the sense that I was always drawn to visual relationships, but I also consciously chose to stay with it, study it deeply, and build my life around it.

I design brand identities, visual systems, spatial graphics, cultural projects, digital experiences, and cross-disciplinary visual communication. I am especially interested in work that moves across multiple touchpoints, such as packaging, exhibitions, interfaces, motion, objects, and public space. In the future, I would like to design more complete cultural and lifestyle experiences where branding, physical space, product behavior, storytelling, and digital interaction all work together as one coherent system.

I would not describe myself as a design legend, but I believe lasting design practice depends on continuous observation, discipline, and refinement. But I would tell young designers to spend less time chasing style and more time developing judgment. Trends and tools change quickly, but the ability to think clearly, edit carefully, understand emotion, and organize complex information will always matter. Young designers should build curiosity outside design, learn how to explain their decisions, and develop patience through repeated refinement.

A good designer can create visually strong work. A great designer understands why the work should exist, how it should behave, and what kind of emotional or cultural impact it can create over time. Great designers are not only image makers; they are thinkers, editors, listeners, and system builders. They know how to balance beauty with clarity, intuition with strategy, and originality with responsibility.

A really good design creates clarity without losing emotional depth. I evaluate design by looking at intention, hierarchy, proportion, rhythm, materiality, usability, and coherence across the whole system. The strongest designs often feel effortless, but when you look more closely, every detail has been considered. A good design should not only attract attention; it should continue to function, communicate, and create trust after the first impression has passed.

Good design creates value because it improves how people understand, use, remember, and emotionally connect with something. For a company, good design can build trust, recognition, clarity, and long-term consistency. For society, it can make information more accessible, spaces more humane, and everyday experiences more meaningful. Investing in good design is not only investing in appearance; it is investing in communication, behavior, and long-term cultural value.

If I had unlimited time, I would design a complete cultural experience for people who are looking for more meaningful and emotionally intelligent interactions with brands, spaces, and objects. It might include an identity system, exhibition, digital platform, publication, product objects, and public engagement. I am especially interested in designing for cultural institutions, independent lifestyle brands, creative communities, and people who value depth, memory, and atmosphere in daily life.

My dream project is a cross-disciplinary cultural world that combines brand identity, spatial experience, physical objects, digital interaction, and storytelling. I imagine it as something between an exhibition, a lifestyle brand, and an emotional archive. It would not only be seen visually, but also experienced through movement, material, sound, behavior, and memory. I hope to create a project where design does not simply decorate an experience, but shapes the entire atmosphere around it.

My secret ingredient is restraint. I believe strong design often comes from knowing what to remove, not only what to add. Restraint creates focus, and focus allows emotion to become clearer. I also rely on observation, patience, and editing. Many of my best decisions happen after I step back, question what is unnecessary, and allow the system to become quieter, more precise, and more coherent.

I am inspired by designers and artists who create systems of thinking, not only beautiful visuals. Dieter Rams inspires me through his clarity, restraint, and responsibility. Kenya Hara inspires me through his sensitivity to emptiness, materiality, and perception. I also admire creative figures who work across disciplines and understand how design can shape culture, space, behavior, and everyday life.

I admire the work of Dieter Rams for Braun because it shows how functional objects can be quiet, precise, and deeply human. I also admire MUJI’s visual and product philosophy, especially the way it uses emptiness and restraint to create openness rather than coldness. What I like about these examples is that they do not rely on excessive decoration. Their strength comes from clarity, proportion, material sensitivity, and a deep understanding of daily behavior.

One of the works I feel especially proud of is Sunday Park, a branding project that received the MUSE Gold Award and the A’ Design Award. I value this project because it reflects my belief in rhythm, proportion, restraint, and emotional atmosphere. Its strength does not come from one loud visual gesture, but from the relationships between typography, spacing, pacing, material feeling, and application. It feels warm and approachable while remaining structured and coherent.

People can become better designers by improving their ability to observe, edit, and articulate. In my own practice, I spent a lot of time studying typography, visual systems, cultural references, architecture, photography, and everyday behavior. I also learned through practice: building projects, testing ideas, receiving feedback, and refining the work again and again. Improvement comes from both curiosity and discipline. Designers need to look widely, but also learn how to make precise decisions.

If I had not become a designer, I might have worked in a field related to culture, writing, curation, or creative direction. I have always been interested in how people perceive images, spaces, stories, and objects. Even if I had chosen another profession, I think I would still be working with emotion, structure, culture, and communication in some form.

For me, design is a way of organizing relationships: between people, information, space, emotion, behavior, and memory. It is not only decoration. Design creates clarity, atmosphere, rhythm, and understanding. A small visual decision can completely change how something feels. I see design as both a practical tool and a cultural language that shapes how people experience the world.

I have been supported by many people: professors, mentors, collaborators, clients, friends, and family. My education at USC also gave me an important environment to question, refine, and expand my design thinking. I do not think any creative journey is built alone. Every conversation, critique, collaboration, and opportunity helped shape the way I work today.

What helped me most was consistency. I kept practicing, observing, questioning, and refining even when the direction was not immediately clear. Studying across different cultural contexts also helped me develop a broader visual and conceptual language. I learned to move between emotional expression and formal restraint, between intuition and structure. That balance has been very important to my design approach.

One obstacle was learning how to find my own voice while being exposed to many different design languages and expectations. Another challenge was moving across cultures and understanding how communication, aesthetics, and emotional expression change in different environments. I also had to learn that design is not only about producing strong visuals quickly. It requires patience, research, revision, and the ability to stay clear under uncertainty.

Designers should present their work as a story of thinking, not only as a collection of final images. A strong presentation should explain the context, the problem, the emotional direction, the system, the decisions, and the result. I think it is important to show how the work behaves across real applications. Good presentation helps people understand not only what the design looks like, but why it works.

My next direction is focused on projects that connect branding with physical experience, digital interaction, lifestyle identity, and cultural storytelling. I am interested in creating systems that can move across space, product, interface, motion, and public communication. In the future, people can expect more cross-disciplinary work from me, especially projects that combine emotional sensitivity with structural clarity.

My ultimate goal is to create design that remains meaningful over time. I want to build work that feels emotionally human, visually restrained, and structurally clear. I hope my projects can help people feel more connected to the objects, spaces, brands, and cultural experiences around them. I would like to be remembered as a designer who created quiet but lasting impact.

I think people expect clarity, professionalism, sensitivity, and the ability to translate complex ideas into coherent visual systems. They also expect a designer to bring perspective, not only execution. A designer should be able to listen carefully, understand context, and create work that serves both emotional and strategic needs. I try to meet that expectation with thoughtfulness, honesty, and discipline.

Design helps create a better society by improving how people access information, navigate spaces, use objects, and relate to each other. Good design can reduce confusion, create dignity, support accessibility, and make everyday life more humane. It can also help cultural ideas become more visible and easier to share. Even small improvements in clarity, comfort, and communication can create meaningful social value over time.

I am currently excited about projects that explore the relationship between branding systems and physical experience. I am interested in how a brand can become more than a logo or visual identity, and instead shape atmosphere, behavior, objects, and interaction. I am also exploring lifestyle-oriented identities, spatial applications, and digital systems that feel emotionally warm while remaining visually precise.

The projects that give me the most satisfaction are the ones where the system becomes stronger through subtle decisions. Sunday Park is one example because it allowed me to work with rhythm, proportion, typography, and atmosphere in a very controlled way. I also enjoy cultural and exhibition-related projects because they allow design to enter real space and create emotional dialogue with audiences. These projects are satisfying because people experience them physically and emotionally, not only visually.

I would like to see the design industry value depth as much as speed and visibility. Today, there is pressure to produce quickly and constantly appear online, but strong design often requires research, reflection, and refinement. I hope the industry continues to recognize the importance of long-term thinking, accessibility, sustainability, cultural sensitivity, and emotional intelligence, rather than focusing only on visual trends.

I think design is moving toward more interconnected systems and experiences. The boundaries between branding, spatial design, product, motion, digital interaction, AI, and cultural research are becoming increasingly fluid. As technology accelerates visual production, human judgment will become even more important. Designers will need to be better at editing, curating, structuring, and creating coherence across complex environments.

The timeline depends on the scale and complexity of the project. A focused visual direction may take a few weeks, while a larger identity system can take several months to develop and refine. In many cases, the thinking and editing process takes longer than the production of visuals. I do not measure design only by speed. A project is ready when the system becomes coherent, functional, and emotionally clear.

I usually start with observation and reduction. Before designing anything visual, I try to understand the context, audience, emotional tone, purpose, and long-term behavior of the project. I ask what the design needs to communicate and how it should make people feel. After that, I begin building references, sketching directions, testing typography, hierarchy, color, spacing, and applications. The visual language comes after the emotional and structural direction becomes clear.

My design motto is: if something is unnecessary, it should not exist within the system. I believe clarity becomes stronger when every element has a reason to be present. Restraint does not remove personality; it creates focus. This idea guides many of my decisions, from typography and spacing to storytelling and material choices.

I think both happen at the same time. Design can set trends when it introduces a new way of seeing, using, or experiencing something. But design is also shaped by cultural, technological, social, and emotional changes. I see trends as signals rather than instructions. A designer should understand them, but not be controlled by them. The strongest work can respond to its time while still maintaining its own internal logic.

Technology plays the role of an accelerator and an extender. It helps designers research, prototype, test, visualize, and iterate more efficiently. I use digital tools and AI-assisted workflows to explore possibilities, but I do not see technology as a replacement for design thinking. Judgment, taste, sequencing, restraint, and coherence still depend on human decisions. Technology is most valuable when it expands imagination without weakening intention.

My toolbox changes depending on the project, but it usually includes Adobe Creative Suite, Figma, motion and prototyping tools, publishing references, photography, material samples, and AI-assisted research or iteration workflows. I also use notebooks for sketching and early thinking. Even in a digital workflow, I still value physical writing because early ideas often appear more freely and less formally on paper.

Color, material, and ambient qualities often communicate before language does. A small shift in color temperature, surface texture, lighting, or spatial rhythm can completely change how a project feels. I am especially interested in tactile contrasts: soft versus structured surfaces, matte versus reflective finishes, warmth versus restraint. These qualities help create emotional tone and make a design system more memorable and human.

I wish people would ask why certain decisions were made, not only how the work looks. I appreciate questions about process, emotional tone, cultural context, and how the system behaves across different applications. Design is often judged through the final image, but many important decisions are subtle. I like when people are curious about the thinking behind proportion, spacing, rhythm, material, and restraint.

When I see a great design, I first notice how natural it feels. I ask myself why it works so effortlessly and what decisions made that possible. I often look at proportion, hierarchy, material, interaction, and emotional tone. A great design makes me curious because it usually hides a lot of intelligence behind an experience that feels simple.

My ideal design partner is curious, thoughtful, responsible, and open to refinement. I value people who can discuss ideas honestly without losing respect for the process. Yes, I believe in co-design, especially for complex systems. Strong design often benefits from multiple perspectives, including clients, users, collaborators, writers, developers, makers, and cultural researchers. Collaboration works best when everyone shares trust and clarity.

Professors, mentors, collaborators, clients, and peers have all influenced my design. Critiques during my education helped me question my assumptions and become more precise. Professional collaborations taught me how to balance creative intuition with practical needs. Clients also influenced me because they often bring real-world constraints, and constraints can help make the design stronger and more focused.

Several books have influenced the way I think about design and visual culture. Ways of Seeing by John Berger helped me think about images, perception, and context. Designing Design by Kenya Hara influenced my understanding of emptiness, materiality, and sensitivity. The Design of Everyday Things by Don Norman strengthened my awareness of behavior and usability. Design as Art by Bruno Munari reminded me that design can be playful, cultural, and deeply connected to daily life.

I developed my skills through education, repetition, critique, observation, and constant refinement. I studied typography, visual systems, cultural references, and digital tools, but I also learned by looking closely at ordinary things: books, packaging, architecture, exhibitions, interfaces, and public spaces. Skill development is not only technical. It also means learning how to see, how to edit, how to explain, and how to stay sensitive to emotion and context.

If time and space were not limitations, I would like to speak with Dieter Rams. I would ask him about restraint, responsibility, and how to create work that remains meaningful over decades. I would also be interested in speaking with artists and thinkers who shaped visual culture, because I believe design becomes more powerful when it connects with philosophy, behavior, and everyday life.

Awards and recognition are encouraging because they show that the work can communicate beyond its original context. I am grateful for them, especially because they create visibility and allow the project to reach a wider audience. At the same time, I try not to let recognition become the center of my practice. I do not think of myself in terms of fame. I think the more important challenge is to continue making honest, thoughtful, and coherent work after receiving recognition.

I tend to gravitate toward warm neutrals, deep green, and muted earthy colors because they feel calm, grounded, and timeless. One place I find inspiring is Los Angeles, especially because of its light, cultural diversity, architecture, and creative energy. I enjoy simple, comforting food, especially noodles and coffee during the workday. My favorite season is probably autumn because it feels reflective and balanced. A favorite object would be my notebook, because it keeps my thinking honest. As for brands, I admire those with strong systems and restraint, such as MUJI, because their philosophy extends beyond appearance.

One funny thing about being a designer is how much time we can spend adjusting something that looks almost invisible to others. I remember spending a long time refining spacing and alignment in a layout, moving elements by tiny amounts. To someone outside design, it might have looked like nothing changed. But when the final version was presented, the response was simply that it felt much better. That moment reminded me that many design decisions are invisible, but people can still feel them.

A great day as a designer is when a difficult problem becomes clear. It might be finding the right type relationship, solving a structural issue, or finally understanding the emotional tone of a project. I motivate myself through movement, observation, and small routines. Running, reading, looking at references, and stepping away from the screen often help me return with more clarity. I am motivated by the quiet satisfaction of making something more coherent than it was before.

It was not obvious in a professional sense, but the signs were there. I was always drawn to images, drawing, colors, objects, and the emotional feeling of visual things. I did not have the language to call it design at the time, but I was already paying attention to the world visually. Looking back, it makes sense that I eventually chose a path where observation, emotion, and visual structure could become a way of working.

A thousand years from now, I imagine design will no longer be limited to objects, screens, or buildings as we understand them today. It may become more environmental, biological, atmospheric, and responsive. Design could shape invisible systems: memory, emotion, sensory experience, identity, and the relationship between humans, technology, and nature. But even in a distant future, I think the core purpose of design will remain similar: to help people make sense of the world and live with more clarity and meaning.

I would like people to know that my design practice is built on observation, restraint, emotional sensitivity, and long-term thinking. I am not interested in making work that only attracts attention for a short moment. I care about creating systems that remain clear, human, and meaningful over time. Design, for me, is a quiet way of connecting people with culture, space, memory, and everyday life. I am grateful for every opportunity to keep learning, creating, and sharing that perspective.

I work at InProcess Design Studio, a multidisciplinary studio focusing on branding, visual identity systems, spatial graphics, and cultural projects. Our work moves between physical and digital environments, so we’re often thinking about how identities behave across packaging, exhibitions, interfaces, and public space rather than existing in only one format.

The studio values long-term thinking and strong visual structure, which is something I connect with deeply.

For me, design is a way of organizing relationships — between people, information, space, emotion, and behavior.

Good design is rarely just decoration. It creates clarity, atmosphere, rhythm, and understanding. Even very small decisions can completely change how something feels.

I’m most drawn to branding and identity systems, especially projects that need to exist across many different applications over time.

I enjoy work where typography, spatial experience, packaging, and digital communication all connect into one coherent language. I also like projects that sit between culture and commerce rather than feeling purely corporate.

One project I feel especially connected to is Sunday Park, the branding project that recently received the MUSE Gold Award and the A'Design Award.

What I liked about the project was that it relied more on rhythm, proportion, and atmosphere than obvious graphic gestures. The system was designed to feel warm and approachable without becoming visually overwhelming. A lot of attention went into spacing, pacing, typography, and how the brand behaves in physical space.

One of my earlier professional experiences involved working on visual systems and event graphics for large-scale cultural and design events in China. Those projects taught me how design functions in real environments and how identities need to scale across many touchpoints very quickly.

I am less interested in materials as isolated objects and more interested in how materials influence perception and behavior within a system.

Recently, I have become particularly interested in tactile contrasts: soft versus structured surfaces, matte versus reflective finishes, and the relationship between physical texture and emotional tone. In branding, material choices often communicate before language does.

In terms of technology, I see digital tools and AI as accelerators rather than replacements for design thinking. Technology can generate possibilities quickly, but judgment, sequencing, restraint, and coherence still depend on human decisions. I am most interested in technologies that expand the designer’s ability to create more adaptive and interconnected systems across physical and digital environments.

I often feel most creative during moments of observation rather than production.

Creativity usually happens when I begin noticing relationships between unrelated things: architecture, typography, conversations, packaging systems, spatial pacing, or even behavioral patterns in everyday life. Many ideas emerge slowly through accumulation rather than sudden inspiration.

I also find that clarity often appears after periods of restraint. When there is too much visual input, it becomes difficult to identify what is truly necessary. Some of my strongest ideas arrive when I step away from constant stimulation and allow space for reflection.

I focus heavily on structure, proportion, and behavioral consistency.

A design should not only function as a static image. It should remain coherent across different scales, formats, and environments. I pay close attention to hierarchy, pacing, spacing, typography relationships, and how users emotionally experience a system over time.

I am also interested in emotional precision. Small adjustments in color temperature, typography weight, or spatial rhythm can significantly change how a design feels. Often the most important decisions are subtle rather than dramatic.

Designing often feels very quiet to me.

It is less about self-expression and more about entering a state of concentration where relationships between elements become increasingly clear. There is a certain satisfaction in reducing complexity into something emotionally coherent and structurally balanced.

At the same time, design can also feel uncertain. Some of the most meaningful projects require long periods of testing, editing, and refinement before the right tone emerges.

I usually feel relief before excitement.

During the design process, many decisions exist in an abstract state. Once the work moves into physical space, packaging, digital platforms, or public environments, the system finally begins to reveal whether the relationships truly function as intended.

The most rewarding moments are often subtle. I appreciate when people respond emotionally to a project without immediately understanding why. That usually means the system is communicating at a deeper level beyond decoration.

A successful design creates clarity without losing emotional depth.

It should communicate consistently across different contexts while remaining adaptable over time. I believe strong design is rarely dependent on one visual gesture alone. Its strength usually comes from the relationships between elements: hierarchy, proportion, pacing, restraint, and coherence.

A successful design also continues functioning after the initial moment of attention disappears.

The first thing I notice is whether the design feels intentional.

Even highly minimal work can feel unresolved if the relationships between elements lack precision. I usually look at hierarchy, spacing, rhythm, proportion, and whether the design language remains coherent across the system. I am less interested in trend-driven aesthetics and more interested in whether the work demonstrates clarity, control, and long-term thinking.

Designers shape perception, behavior, and attention. Because of that, I believe designers carry both cultural and environmental responsibilities.

Not every project needs to compete through excess stimulation or overproduction. Thoughtful restraint can also be a responsible design decision. Designers should consider durability, clarity, accessibility, and the long-term impact of visual systems rather than focusing only on short-term attention.

I also believe designers have a responsibility to create more meaningful relationships between people and the environments they interact with daily.

The boundaries between disciplines are becoming increasingly fluid.Branding now overlaps with spatial design, digital systems, product experience, motion, behavioral psychology, and cultural research. At the same time, AI is dramatically accelerating visual production across the industry.

I believe this shift will make human judgment more valuable rather than less valuable. As tools become faster, the ability to edit, curate, structure, and create long-term coherence becomes increasingly important.

The future of design will likely move away from isolated objects and toward interconnected systems and experiences.

My most recent exhibition was a group exhibition held in Fall 2025 at 4C Gallery in Los Angeles. The exhibition explored the redefinition of intimacy and distance within contemporary human relationships through a precise and psychologically sensitive perspective.

I continue to maintain an active creative practice, and moving forward, I hope future exhibitions can create even stronger forms of dialogue between the work and the audience. I am increasingly interested in exhibitions that allow viewers to engage emotionally and behaviorally with a system rather than simply observe it from a distance.

My inspiration often comes from observing systems outside traditional graphic design. Architecture, urban pacing, contemporary fashion, publishing, film, industrial materials, and even behavioral patterns in public space all influence how I think about structure and emotion.

I am especially interested in the tension between emotional warmth and formal restraint. Many of my ideas emerge from trying to balance those two conditions simultaneously. I also believe creativity depends heavily on curiosity. Remaining open to disciplines outside design helps prevent visual repetition.

I would describe my work as emotionally restrained, structurally clear, and system-oriented.

Over time, I became less interested in visual excess and more interested in how identities behave consistently across different applications and environments. That shift naturally led me toward branding systems built on hierarchy, proportion, rhythm, and coherence.

My approach usually begins with identifying emotional tone before visual form. Once the emotional direction becomes clear, I focus on building a flexible system capable of maintaining that tone across multiple touchpoints.

I currently live in Los Angeles. Yes, cultural heritage has deeply influenced both my design language and the way I think.

Growing up within Chinese cultural contexts exposed me to visual systems that are often emotionally layered, symbolic, and historically dense. At the same time, living and working in the United States introduced me to design traditions that emphasize reduction, clarity, structure, and functional precision. Much of my work exists between these two perspectives.

One advantage of working across cultures is the ability to approach design from multiple emotional and conceptual viewpoints simultaneously. I can move between expressive symbolism and restrained modernism, which allows me to build systems that feel both emotionally sensitive and structurally clear.

At the same time, there are also challenges. Different cultural environments often carry very different expectations about communication, aesthetics, pacing, and emotional expression. One of the most difficult aspects is maintaining clarity while navigating these contrasting visual languages and cultural assumptions.

I see collaboration as a process of alignment rather than decoration.

I usually begin by understanding how a company wants to behave over time: its positioning, tone, audience relationships, and long-term direction. From there, the visual system becomes a strategic framework rather than a purely aesthetic layer.

I also value dialogue throughout the process. Strong branding often emerges through iteration, testing, and refinement rather than immediate solutions.

Companies should look beyond surface aesthetics when selecting a designer.

A strong designer is not only someone who can create visually appealing work, but someone who can build clarity, consistency, and long-term coherence across a system. The process behind the work is often as important as the final visuals.

I also believe successful collaborations depend heavily on trust and communication. The strongest projects usually happen when companies allow enough space for thoughtful exploration rather than focusing only on immediate outcomes.

My process usually begins with observation and reduction. I spend considerable time understanding the emotional and structural conditions surrounding a project before developing visual language. Once the core direction becomes clear, I begin building systems through typography, hierarchy, spacing, rhythm, color relationships, and application testing.

A large part of the process involves editing. Many important decisions come from identifying what is unnecessary rather than continuously adding elements.

Some of my favorite design objects at home are the ones that quietly improve everyday behavior through thoughtful functionality.

One example is my mouse. I pay close attention to ergonomic design because I spend long hours working digitally. A well-designed mouse can significantly improve physical comfort and reduce strain over time. I appreciate products where human-centered thinking becomes almost invisible through use.

Another object is my water bottle. I enjoy drinking water frequently throughout the day, and I have noticed that a thoughtfully designed bottle subtly changes behavior. When an object feels visually pleasing and comfortable to use, it naturally increases the likelihood of interaction.

I also care deeply about sofas. Since a large portion of both my resting time and informal creative thinking happens there, comfort and proportion become extremely important. A good sofa influences not only physical relaxation, but also the emotional atmosphere of a space.

Another favorite object is my reading lamp. I have a habit of reading before sleep, so lighting quality matters a great deal to me. I prefer lamps with soft, controlled light that create a calm transition between work and rest. Good lighting can quietly shape emotional rhythm within everyday life.

Lastly, I would probably include my notebook. Even in a highly digital workflow, I still value physical writing and sketching. A notebook allows ideas to develop more freely and less formally. Sometimes the earliest stages of a concept appear more honestly on paper than on a screen.

My days usually begin with movement. After waking up and getting ready, I usually stretch and prepare for a morning run. Running helps me reset mentally and build energy for the day ahead.

After breakfast, I review emails and organize my priorities before fully entering work mode. My day is often divided between visual development, refining systems, client communication, and research.

After work, I enjoy playing pickleball. It helps me release mental pressure and create balance between screen-based work and physical activity. Some of my clearest ideas actually appear after stepping away from the computer.

At night, I usually slow down by reading or sketching casually. I value quiet routines because creativity often develops gradually through observation and reflection.

I would encourage young designers to spend less time chasing style and more time developing judgment.

Trends change very quickly, but clarity, structure, editing, and emotional intelligence remain valuable across every generation of design. Learning how to reduce, organize, and articulate ideas is often more important than constantly adding complexity.

I also believe curiosity outside design is essential. Some of the strongest creative perspectives come from engaging with culture broadly rather than remaining inside one discipline.

One positive aspect of design is the ability to shape how people experience the world emotionally and behaviorally.

Design allows ideas to move across objects, spaces, interfaces, and culture itself. That ability to influence perception is incredibly meaningful. At the same time, design can also become exhausting because the field moves very quickly and often rewards constant visibility. Maintaining clarity and depth within that speed requires discipline.

If something is unnecessary, it should not exist within the system.

I believe clarity becomes stronger when every element has a reason for being present. Restraint is not about removing personality; it is about creating focus and coherence.

I believe judgment is the most important skill.

Technical tools can be learned relatively quickly, especially today. What matters more is the ability to edit, organize information, build relationships between elements, and maintain emotional clarity across a system. Communication, curiosity, and cultural awareness are also increasingly important as design becomes more interdisciplinary.

My toolbox changes depending on the project, but it usually includes Adobe Creative Suite, Figma, motion and prototyping tools, publishing references, photography, architectural research, material samples, and increasingly AI-assisted workflows for research and iteration.

I also rely heavily on books, exhibitions, film, and spatial observation as creative tools rather than only software.

I try to separate exploration from refinement.

Early stages require openness and experimentation, while later stages depend heavily on editing and structure. Organizing the process into phases helps maintain clarity and prevents unnecessary complexity.

I also believe good time management comes from knowing when a design has reached sufficient coherence rather than endlessly adjusting details.

The timeline depends heavily on the scale and complexity of the system.

Some projects require only a few weeks, while larger identity systems can continue evolving for months. In many cases, the thinking and refinement process takes longer than the actual production of visuals. Strong design usually develops through iteration rather than speed alone.

One question I am frequently asked is whether a project was developed through deep research and user understanding, or primarily driven by visual aesthetics.

I believe thoughtful design requires both. Visual language alone is not enough. Before making design decisions, I spend considerable time observing user behavior, emotional expectations, and how people interact with systems over time. Research helps reveal not only functional needs, but also psychological patterns and emotional tone.

At the same time, I do not see research and aesthetics as separate processes. The most effective design solutions often emerge when strategic thinking, behavioral understanding, and visual clarity are working together as part of the same system.

One of my most important job experiences was working as a lead designer within a branding and visual communication practice, where I was involved in projects from early strategy to final execution.

This experience was important because it taught me how design functions beyond individual visuals. I learned how to communicate with clients, understand business needs, organize creative direction, and translate abstract ideas into coherent visual systems across different applications.

It also helped me develop a more mature understanding of collaboration. Strong design rarely comes from isolated decisions. It requires research, discussion, testing, refinement, and the ability to balance creative intuition with practical constraints.

Through this experience, I became more aware of the designer’s role as both a visual thinker and a strategic partner. It shaped the way I work today: with attention to clarity, emotional tone, structure, and long-term coherence.

My work includes collaborations across branding, cultural institutions, exhibitions, and lifestyle-oriented projects.

I have worked on international design events, identity systems, contemporary brand development, and cross-disciplinary visual projects operating across physical and digital environments.

I especially enjoy projects that extend beyond a single medium or discipline. The most meaningful work to me is design that can shape not only visuals, but also atmosphere, interaction, behavior, and emotional experience. I am interested in how ideas move across different forms such as spatial environments, objects, publishing, digital platforms, motion, and cultural experiences.

What excites me most is building work that remains emotionally coherent while adapting naturally across different contexts and scales.

My current focus is expanding toward more international and cross-disciplinary projects.

I am increasingly interested in the relationship between branding, physical space, product behavior, and cultural experience. I also want to continue exploring how emotionally restrained systems can remain deeply human and engaging.

It depends on the scale of the project. Some projects are developed independently, while larger systems often involve collaboration across multiple disciplines. I value collaborative processes because strong systems usually emerge through discussion, testing, and refinement from different perspectives.

I am currently interested in projects that explore the relationship between branding systems and physical experience.

Some ongoing work involves lifestyle-oriented identities, spatial applications, and systems that move fluidly between digital interaction and tactile environments. I am particularly interested in how branding can shape atmosphere rather than simply visual recognition.

People can reach me through my website.