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1_Narrative Maps
2_Year Zero_Y2K Zine
3_SpaceX Poster Series
4_Collage Tarot Deck
5_Multiworld Corporation™
6_Motion Graphics
7_Typographic/Formal Studies
8_Branding Work 9_Short Stories
Graphic Design Senior at RISD + Creative Writer living in Harlem, NYC. My work focuses mainly on the conceptual and image-making side of graphic design, aiming to produce unique, meaningful intersections of visual design and semiotic storytelling.
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Degree Project – In Transit, Out
January 2021 – May 2022 – Printed on Acetate, Photoshop, Illustrator, 16 x 11 – 36 x 26 "
My Degree Project aimed to explore my own concept of transition, of being in between spaces either mental or physical in the intersection of identity and memory. Transitory places that serve no purpose other than to traverse through, places that exist between the cracks of reality not meant to stop at or stay, intentionally designed for a singular utilitarian purpose with no reason to stick in our memory are called liminal spaces. They can encompass airports, train stations, hallways, vehicles and public transport, or really any public space that isn’t meant to be stayed at. Such spaces invite discomfort and ambiguity rather than relief, but they are also essential to modern life, regardless of the cynical justifications.
These spaces are core to my memories and nostalgia of a past filled with travel, confusion and uncertainty regarding my own identity. Through my installation I wanted to explore the aesthetics of nostalgia by creating a series of acetate panels, each a vignette of a space I have a strong liminal association with, that would begin to blur together as a palimpsest of information, colors, symbols and patterns, much the way my own memories exist. A soundscape of airport ambience– luggage getting dragged along the conveyor walkways, distant announcements and one-note announcement tones echo alongside the installation to further establish a feeling of liminality.
How much do the spaces we live in and interact with determine our identity?
How do we determine “space” from what came before?
Does a space need to serve an inherent purpose?
How are spaces designed to fit needs which aren’t essential?
Do virtual and physical spaces share the same interactive/social qualities? Are they interchangable?
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1. Beijing Hospital
BIRTH NOUN, OFTEN ATTRIBUTIVE
‘BERTH
DEFINITION
A: THE EMERGENCE OF A NEW INDIVIDUAL FROM THE BODY OF ITS PARENT
B: THE ACT OR PROCESS OF BRINGING FORTH YOUNG FROM THE WOMB
C: A STATE RESULTING FROM BEING BORN ESPECIALLY AT A PARTICULAR TIME OR
PLACE
D: TO GIVE RISE TO : ORIGINATE
E: HIGH OR NOBLE LINEAGE:
TO BE FOOLISHLY VAIN ABOUT ONE'S BIRTH.
F: THE EMERGENCE OF A NEW INDIVIDUAL FROM THE BODY OF ITS PARENT
G: THE ACT OR PROCESS OF BRINGING FORTH YOUNG FROM THE WOMB
H: A STATE RESULTING FROM BEING BORN ESPECIALLY AT A PARTICULAR TIME OR
PLACE
I: TO GIVE RISE TO : ORIGINATE
J: HIGH OR NOBLE LINEAGE:
TO BE FOOLISHLY VAIN ABOUT ONE'S BIRTH.
出生名词,通常是定语
‘泊位
定义
A: 一个新个体从其父母的身体中出现
B:从子宫中孕育出婴儿的行为或过程
C:特别是在特定时间或地点出生所产生的状态
D:引起:起源
E:高贵血统:
对自己的出生愚蠢地自负。
F:一个新个体从其父母的身体中出现
G:从子宫中孕育婴儿的行为或过程
H:由于出生而产生的状态,尤其是在特定的时间或地点
I: 产生: ORIGINATE
J:高贵血统:
对自己的出生愚蠢地自负。
2. Copenhagen Airport
The air is always cold when you step out of the plane cabin and into the departures terminal. The sky is cloudy outside the corridor windows leading to the baggage claims, dark blue carpets below our feet and a quiet mood among the tired passengers. The halls are very spacious, ceilings high above our heads in an unnatural way that you would never see in a place that you live in. Planes with different colored fins and wings are lined up on the turf, some slowly rolling along towards the runway to take off; I can never identify them all. Reaching the baggage claim area I recognize familiar landmarks along the walls, like the lego themed playground in the corner that I once used to play on with the other kids. We stand along the side of the large numbered aisles with the crowd of passengers waiting for our luggage just like them, hoping to quickly spot the familiar dark red fabric or hard black plastic of our suitcases. We then begin to head to out towards the arrivals area; I always feel nervous when walking through that section because I feel the eyes of the many eagerly awaiting families looking for their relatives. When we finally step out into the cold Copenhagen air, we head to our rental car in the parking lot as we absorb the familiar air and scents. For some reason you can always tell the difference between the air of different countries, especially right after stepping out of a plane with the same recycled cabin air. However, maybe it's also the nostalgia of the blend of pollen and fresh rain which tie me so strongly to home.
Luften er altid kold, når du træder ud af flykabinen og ind i afgangsterminalen. Himlen er overskyet uden for korridorvinduerne, der fører til bagageudleveringerne, mørkeblå tæpper under vores fødder og en stille stemning blandt de trætte passagerer. Hallerne er meget rummelige, højt til loftet over vores hoveder en unaturlig måde, som du aldrig ville se et sted, du bor i. Fly med forskellige farvede finner og vinger står opstillet på grønsværen, nogle ruller langsomt hen mod landingsbanen for at lette; Jeg kan aldrig identificere dem alle. Da jeg når til bagageudleveringsområdet, genkender jeg velkendte vartegn langs væggene, som legepladsen med lego-tema i hjørnet, som jeg engang plejede at lege på med de andre børn. Vi står langs siden af de store nummererede gange med mængden af passagerer, der venter på vores bagage ligesom dem, i håb om hurtigt at få øje på det velkendte mørkerøde stof eller hårde sorte plastik i vores kufferter. Vi begynder derefter at gå ud mod ankomstområdet; Jeg føler mig altid nervøs, når jeg går gennem det afsnit, fordi jeg mærker øjnene på de mange ventende familier, der leder efter deres slægtninge. Da vi endelig træder ud i den kolde københavnerluft, sætter vi kursen mod vores lejebil på parkeringspladsen, mens vi suger den velkendte luft og dufte til sig. Af en eller anden grund kan du altid kende forskel på luften i forskellige lande, især lige efter du er steget ud af et fly med den samme genbrugte kabineluft. Men måske er det også nostalgien ved blandingen af pollen og frisk regn, der binder mig så stærkt til hjemmet.
4. River Road
When we first moved to Maryland from Beijing, the first thing I can recall is that I no longer knew how to speak the rudimentary Mandarin I’d learned as a toddler. Rather, all I knew was Danish, my family’s mothertongue. Moving to America was an exciting change, owning a house in suburbia, always needing a car to get to places which made for exciting excursions and feelings of excitement. I didn’t realize how lucky I had it living right down the block from my best friend, to the point where whenever the GPS would say “River Road” I’d get a rush of excitement as we turned down the hill and into a familiar clearing around the densely wooded highway. Even the name River Road brings back those memories, the nostalgia of car rides in elementary school and staring out the back window of the schoolbus imagining creatures or dinosaurs chasing after and wrecking the road in our wake. It was always easy to be entertained by looking out the window during long car rides, especially during a time and age where the only entertainment I had was a Gameboy that was only playable during the day or in bright light because the screen was so dark.
5. Grand Central
Grand Central is a perpetual motion machine, perfect for the city that never sleeps. It’s probably the busiest transit hub in the city, a constant bustling swarm of ant-people heading to all corners of the concourse. Looking up at the matte green constellation above always brings a sense of wonder, an art fixture as iconic as the station itself– the massive emptiness of the main concourse is simultaneously as terrifying as it is awe-inspiring, especially when the people who typically populate it are all but gone. The 4-faced clock in the center of the hall stands alone, tall above those who would stand beneath it in wait, glowing softly regardless. But Grand Central isn’t all there is to Penn Station, the rest is a twisting maze of never-ending corridors leading to an infinite combination of terminal and station numbers with fast-food restaurants, 1 dollar pizza joints and Starbucks jammed in between. Those are the places I spent the most time, watching people go by with suitcases and duffel bags of all shapes, shades and sizes from behind the glass. Other times when I was just going in to use the subway, I felt like I was going on a much larger journey, like I was stepping into an airport just to go home. But where was home? Was this home, a place not meant for living?
6. NYC Subway
THE SUBWAY IS QUITE DIFFERENT FROM MASS PUBLIC TRANSIT IN OTHER COUNTRIES AND CITIES, WORSE IN FACT. EVERYTHING IS VERY OLD AND RETROFITTED TO MATCH MODERN STANDARDS BUT EVERYTHING IS STILL MUSTY, DIRTY, RUSTY AND COVERED IN A VENEER OF BADLY APPLIED PAINT. THERE IS ALWAYS A STENCH OF SOME MIX OF FOOD, GARBAGE, URINE OR PLAIN STALENESS FROM POORLY CIRCULATED AIR UNDERGROUND. THE QUALITY OF THE RAIL SYSTEM IS BADLY DEGRADED WHICH MAKES FOR A VERY BUMPY RIDE NO MATTER HOW NEW OR REGULARLY MAINTAINED THE SUBWAY CARS ARE. INSIDE THE CAR WHERE THE PASSENGERS RESIDE HOWEVER IS WHERE THE CULTURE OF THE CITY THRIVES. IF YOU DON'T SEE PERFORMERS FLIPPING AROUND ON THE POLES WITH THEIR BOOMBOXES THEN YOU HAVE SOMEONE SINGING OR PREACHING. IF YOU’RE LUCKY ENOUGH NOT TO BE DISTURBED ON YOUR RIDE YOU WILL NONETHELESS GET A TASTE OF NEW YORK CULTURE THROUGH PEOPLE WATCHING. EVERYONE KEEPS TO THEMSELVES BUT YOU CAN’T HELP BUT GET CURIOUS ABOUT WHERE PEOPLE COME FROM IN THE WAY THEY DRESS, PRESENT THEMSELVES AND HOW THEY ENTERTAIN THEMSELVES ON THE TRIP.
7. Hong Kong Citybus
I don’t remember much about the bus rides in Hong Kong while we were visiting my mother's home island, only glimpses of the overpasses at night, dark woods on either side with huge void-like masses right in the middle of urban centers – mountains at night – which made the atmosphere particularly dreamlike, especially now looking back on it. The buses were always double-deckers at quite thinly populated at night, so it was easy to get a seat right above the driver overlooking the street and the night sky above, road lights whizzing by endlessly in my peripheral. The bus rides are always quite long and required a special fare card. Not a typical ticket, but a real plastic card that was meant to be reusable and refillable. It astonished me that such a practical system could exist anywhere, even in one of the best transit systems I’ve tried back at home in Denmark still used paper fare cards that needed to be stamped and inspected. The long trips between centers always resulted in needing to use the bathroom however, and even such large vehicles somehow lacked a built-in restroom. It frequently became a problem for everyone in the family to have the nice trip spoiled in such a way but for me, the cold yet humid night air, the unfamiliar, wildly diverse scents of the highway on the city outskirts and tired sensation that your destination is still so far, yet closer than it feels. Even so, it’s a strange feeling each time to leave the Citybus and wander into the unprotected air, feeling as though the transitory experience lingers on even after it is over.
我不太记得我们在访问我母亲的家乡岛屿时在香港乘坐的巴士,只在夜间瞥见了立交桥,两边都是黑暗的树林,在城市中 心有巨大的空洞般的群众——山脉晚上——这让气氛特别梦幻,尤其是现在回想起来。公共汽车在晚上人烟稀少时总是双 层的,所以很容易在司机上方找到一个座位,可以俯瞰街道和上方的夜空,路灯在我的外围无休止地呼啸而过。乘坐公共 汽车总是很长,需要一张特殊的票价卡。不是一张典型的票,而是一张真正的塑料卡,可以重复使用和重新填充。令我惊讶的是,这样一个实用的系统可能存在于任何地方,即使在我在丹麦的家乡尝试过的最好的交通系统之一中,仍然使用需要盖章和检查的纸质票价卡。然而,中心之间的长途旅行总是导致需要使用洗手间,而且即使如此大的车辆也不知何故缺乏内置洗手间。家庭中的每个人都经常遇到这样的问题,但对我来说,寒冷而潮湿的夜间空气,城郊高速公路上陌生而多样的气味,以及目的地的疲惫感仍然很远,但比感觉更近。即便如此,每次离开城巴,在没有保护的空气中徘徊,都是一种奇怪的感觉,感觉即使结束了,短暂的体验也依然存在。
8. United Nations International School
Although small, UNIS was always unique in its design choices to get around being located on the East River bank; a small garden courtyard in the center of the school building and a gym on the rooftop inside what we called “The Bubble”. Volleyball games played on the roof were always interrupted by someone using their foot or fist a little too hard and knocking the ball straight off the court on the roof and down into the east river. Either that, or it would get sent straight into the junior school playground below, where the person responsible had to run down the stairs and get it while everyone else waited impatiently. Sometimes this would happen multiple times a game within our already limited lunch break. In the garden courtyard there were a few of these big plastic bubbles which let sunlight down into the cafeteria below. I remember when the courtyard first opened people would climb on top of these and lay face down staring into the cafeteria below. People quickly realized how dirty and hot they got after a day out in the sun. The cafeteria itself also always seemed to change, going through renovations constantly and confusing its mental image of itself with multiple versions. Nowadays I can hardly remember the first, old version of the lobby that existed before the glass walls were installed between it and the cafeteria, and ID scanners were placed at the doorways as a measure of safety after lockdown drills started becoming the norm.