Interviewe mat USEE Advertising Company

I studied Commercial Design in university, and after graduation, I started working in the design industry and have continued ever since. It has been around 22 years now. Over the years, I have worked on projects across many different fields, including restaurants and hospitality, auction businesses, public institutions, and art exhibitions, though most of my work has been focused on the technology industry.

I do not limit myself to one specific design style, because I believe designers should be familiar with different visual languages in order to respond appropriately to different kinds of projects. If I had to describe the style I am most comfortable with, it would probably be clean, minimal, and structured.

As for signature works, my perspective has changed over time. I feel that projects which once represented me no longer fully reflect who I am today, so I no longer think a single project could ever fully represent me.

And honestly, the reason I have stayed in design for so many years is very simple: time passes incredibly fast when I am designing. Before I realize it, the workday is already over. (Laughs)

When I was young, my mother sent me to many different after-school classes, including dance, piano, painting, mental math, writing, and computer classes. Except for anything related to mathematics, I enjoyed most of them.

Later, encouraged by compliments from my art teachers, I slowly realized that I might actually be good at creativity and drawing, so I naturally started moving in that direction. When it came time to choose my university major, I felt that fine art, while fascinating, might be difficult to make a living from, so I chose Commercial Design, which felt closer to everyday life and communication with the public.

What attracts me most about design is that it never feels repetitive. Every project brings different ways of thinking, different interpretations, and different solutions, and I still find that very interesting.

I believe the core of design is communication.

Not only communication between designers, clients, planners, and audiences, but also communication between brands and consumers, governments and citizens, and creators and viewers.

Before starting a project, I usually begin by asking questions such as: Why does this project need to exist? What should it communicate? What problem should it solve? Through these questions, I look for creative solutions and visual directions before actually developing the design itself.

Visually, I usually collect design inspirations related to the project direction first, then extract useful elements from them and gradually develop a visual language that matches the project’s values and goals.

The entire design process, from the first idea to the final result, feels strangely addictive to me.

The most exciting moment is probably when I create something that I am truly satisfied with. That feeling is incredibly rewarding. Of course, the most painful part is when a design gets revised into complete chaos by clients. (Laughs)

I am the type of person who constantly asks “why,” and I think that helps a lot in design. It helps me clarify directions, discover more unexpected perspectives, and create designs that are more convincing and meaningful.

I also enjoy participating in activities unrelated to design and exposing myself to different worlds, people, and perspectives. I especially enjoy reading and traveling. I would not say these things directly shaped my design in a dramatic way, but they naturally accumulate and become part of how I think.

I do not have a very specific idea of what kind of designer I want to become. I prefer to let things develop naturally. I believe that if I keep doing each project sincerely, my own path will naturally take shape over time.

As for a dream project, maybe I will dare to dream bigger when I become the client someday. (Laughs)

From my own experience, I think young designers should observe good design more often, ask “why” more frequently, and discuss their ideas with others.

If there is something you do not understand, ask experienced people directly instead of isolating yourself and trying to figure everything out alone. At the same time, it is important to expand your perspective and slowly accumulate experiences and observations. Eventually, you will naturally find your own direction.

I think success can have many different meanings.

Since success looks different for everyone, I do not think there is one universal piece of advice that applies to all designers. But if I had to say one thing, it would probably be: try to enjoy the process of design as much as possible.

I usually start my mornings with a latte. My working hours are roughly from 9:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.

After that, I focus on finishing the day’s work and enjoying life after work. I think the most interesting part of daily life is finding small ways to make each day feel a little different from the one before.

Of course, it is important to stay aware of design trends because they are closely connected to what is happening in society.

I browse platforms such as Behance, Pinterest, exhibitions, and social media whenever I have time. However, compared to simply following visual trends, I pay closer attention to social shifts and cultural changes happening beyond the design world itself. Some designs require topical relevance, some require understanding industry conditions, and others require awareness of materials and real-world applications.

I believe design should follow the goals of the project itself. Especially today, when niche cultures are becoming increasingly influential, trends can vary greatly between different groups of people.

For graphic design, I think it is difficult to define “good” or “bad” design with absolute standards.

What I care about more is the sense of completion and whether the design accurately communicates the atmosphere, information, and ideas it is supposed to deliver. I also pay close attention to visual balance and overall consistency.

Usually, it is the moment when I feel the design has become complete enough.

That sense of “completeness” is difficult to measure with a formula or checklist. I think it is more like an intuition built through years of experience.

The project that stands out most to me recently is probably the award-winning calendar design.

My company gave me a great deal of creative freedom, which allowed me to fully develop the project according to my own ideas and create the final result I truly envisioned. To me, it felt closer to creating an artwork than simply delivering a commercial project.

At this stage, I do not have one particular designer that I admire most.

What matters more to me is whether a work resonates with me personally.

Taiwanese culture has definitely influenced me deeply, but I also hope not to live only within the boundaries of Taiwan, which is why I love traveling and reading.

I am especially drawn to cities with a slower rhythm and a strong sense of history and culture, which is why I love places such as Iceland, Barcelona, Budapest, and the South of France.

I think I am a little like a sponge. I enjoy absorbing fragments of different cultures, perspectives, and ways of living.

In Taiwan, although design and aesthetics are gradually receiving more attention, most people still care primarily about price and cost-performance value.

Because of that, I always hope to meet clients who genuinely respect design. In this kind of environment, communication skills within a design team become extremely important.

I do not think business and design necessarily have to compromise with each other. In many cases, they can actually strengthen one another.

I do not think every person must carry some grand responsibility toward society just because they are alive.

If you genuinely want to contribute, then do it. If you are simply trying to make a living, I do not think there is anything shameful about that either.

That said, I do care a lot about children’s aesthetic education. I think children are more open to influence and imagination than adults. I hope they can grow up being able to think creatively and maintain a sense of aesthetics no matter what kind of environment they are in.

Receiving recognition from the judges and winning this award was, of course, something I felt very happy and grateful for.

Beyond the recognition itself, I also hope more people can see our work and ideas. I am really looking forward to visiting the exhibition, seeing other award-winning projects in person, and meeting designers from different places around the world.

When I was young, my mother encouraged me to attend many different kinds of extracurricular classes, such as dance, piano, painting, mental math, writing, and computer studies. Other than subjects related to mathematics, I enjoyed most of them quite a lot.

Later, with encouragement and praise from my art teachers, I gradually realized that I might have a talent for creativity and visual expression, so I naturally started moving in that direction. When it came time to choose a university major, I was actually very attracted to fine art, but I also considered reality and practicality. Commercial design felt closer to people’s everyday lives and more applicable to the real world, so I eventually chose design as my path.

What attracts me most about design is that it never feels too repetitive or boring. Every project comes with different ways of thinking, different interpretations, and different solutions. That constant process of re-understanding the world and communicating with different audiences still feels fascinating to me today.

We are a design company based in Taiwan. Because Taiwan has a very strong high-tech industry, we have long specialized in branding and communication for technology-related industries.

I think this is both challenging and interesting. The high-tech industry itself is extremely rational and technology-driven, while our role is to create communication that can be felt, understood, and remembered. In a way, we are trying to inject emotion into technology.

I am not particularly attached to having one fixed design style, because style should change depending on the industry, brand, and audience. More than visual form itself, I care about whether we can truly help Taiwan’s high-tech industries improve the way they communicate and present themselves aesthetically.

For me, design is about finding the best way to solve different kinds of problems. And the “best way” is not only about aesthetics. It also includes the entire experience of solving the problem: communication, emotions, process, and whether the final result is truly understood and accepted. To me, design is not simply about making things look beautiful. It is a way of integrating thought and emotion.

If “creative freedom” can be considered a category, then that would probably be my favorite. Of course, commercial design always comes with limitations and conditions, but I actually think finding new possibilities within those limitations is part of the fun.

I love Florentijn Hofman’s work, Rubber Duck.

He created giant yellow duck installations in cities around the world, and what surprised me most was how the work could completely change the mood and atmosphere of a city. A familiar and sometimes emotionally distant urban space could suddenly become softer, happier, and more human because of this huge and humorous object. It even encouraged interaction between strangers. I think that is something very incredible. It also made me rethink the role of design and art. Sometimes they are not just objects to be viewed, but something that changes the relationship between people and space, and between people themselves.

Honestly, I can barely remember. But I clearly remember that when I first entered the industry, every day felt like opening a new world. I was constantly learning, not only about design itself, but also about printing, communication, and understanding different industries and clients. That feeling of continuously absorbing new things made me feel excited and fulfilled. Looking back now, the work I created at that time may have been immature, but I still remember the feeling of my worldview constantly expanding.

I do not have a specific favorite material, platform, or technology. For me, the most important thing is not the medium itself, but whether it can appropriately communicate the idea and effect I want to express. As long as it helps complete the concept and presentation of a work, whether it is traditional materials, digital tools, emerging technologies, or cross-media integration, I can enjoy all of them.

When I am on a long vacation. (Laughs)

First, you need to fully understand the problem, the audience, the context, and the communication purpose. Those early stages of thinking determine the direction and accuracy of the final result. Once the direction becomes clearer, execution is necessary to test, adjust, and move things forward. For me, good design is gradually shaped through the constant movement between thinking and making.

Different projects and different stages of a project bring very different emotions. This reminds me of our award-winning work, “Time Slide.” The sense of time, transition, and movement in the project reflects my emotional state during the design process. Design is rarely a straight line. It feels more like sliding through different layers of time and emotion until an idea slowly takes shape.

A strong sense of fulfillment.

For me, successful design is not only about looking good. It is about provoking thought and emotionally touching people. I think the true power of design lies in its ability to create connection.

I first try to understand the purpose of the design and whether the final result truly aligns with that purpose. To me, the most important thing is not simply whether something looks visually attractive, but whether it successfully communicates what it intended to communicate. When concept, communication, and execution are aligned, I consider it mature design. Only after that do I look at details, aesthetics, and execution quality.

I think everyone shares responsibility toward society and the environment. As designers, we simply approach those responsibilities through design thinking. Responsibility does not always have to be expressed through grand statements. Sometimes it is simply about being willing to think one step further in every decision and communication.

Maybe you should ask AI. (Laughs)

A' Design Award Exhibition was my first exhibition experience. I hope it will become a beautiful experience for me.

I think the most important thing is continuous observation and reading.

A lot of inspiration does not necessarily come directly from design itself. It comes from life, cities, human interaction, and subtle emotions or experiences. When you continue observing the world over time, many things naturally accumulate within you. Creativity feels less like sudden inspiration and more like a natural response formed through long-term absorption and observation.

It is actually difficult for me to clearly define my own style. I feel that my design style and methods have gradually become internalized as part of who I am. Rather than intentionally pursuing one fixed visual style, I prefer finding the most appropriate form of expression for different industries, content, and audiences. If I had to describe it, I would say I care about balancing rationality and emotion, combining clear logic with warmth and feeling.

I live in Taiwan, a warm and vibrant place. However, from the perspective of the design industry, Asian societies generally do not always value design expertise as strongly as many Western countries do. Design is often treated as the final layer of packaging rather than a core value. But in some ways, that challenge is also interesting. It constantly pushes designers to communicate the true value of design and how it affects branding, communication, and human emotion. At the same time, Taiwan’s highly developed technology industry allows us to engage with very advanced, fast-paced, and rational industries, which has deeply influenced my design thinking.

In the high-tech industry, there are usually very strict and standardized procurement processes. Some collaborations are decided through pitching, some through pricing, and others through design capability and experience. Every company and every project works differently.

What we can do is continuously communicate, understand, and adjust. Design is often not just about creating visuals, but about helping different perspectives slowly reach common ground. In a way, design work feels like a long-term communication process. Communicating, communicating, and communicating again… until both sides gradually move closer, and then hoping the project can finally be completed smoothly. (Laughs)

Of course, choosing a designer who has won an A' Design Award would be an excellent choice. (Laughs) A good collaboration should be built on mutual understanding and trust, not just one-sided execution. Many truly valuable designs come from long-term discussion and refinement between both sides.

That might be considered a business secret. (Laughs) But generally speaking, I think every project requires a different process because every problem requires a different solution.

Rather than famous design objects, I prefer objects filled with memories. For example, ceramic works made by my child or small things that have accompanied me for many years. They may not be perfect designs, but because they carry emotions and time, they become more meaningful to me.

Go to work, maybe have a coffee. After work, maybe have a drink.

Please continue observing the world and slowly build your own depth.

I genuinely enjoy being a designer. So far, I still cannot clearly find any disadvantages. Hopefully I never will. (Laughs) Although design work comes with pressure and challenges, it also constantly exposes me to new things, new people, and new perspectives. I think that is something very fortunate.

I think one of the most fascinating things about design is that there is no real golden rule.

I think designers need a very wide range of abilities. Problem-solving, communication skills, aesthetic sensitivity, personal depth, and observation are only a few examples.

But I also want to say that designers are not magicians. (Laughs)

I use many different tools and software, such as Adobe Creative Cloud and Rhino. But for me, the most important tools are actually observation, reading, and thinking. No matter how advanced the tools are, people still decide how to use them.

The company usually gives me deadlines, and the detailed schedule in between mostly depends on my mood. (Laughs)

Seriously, I think design cannot always be measured purely by efficiency. Some things need time to settle, and some ideas require space and transition.

It is difficult to give a standard answer. Every project differs in complexity, communication processes, and client collaboration, so the timeline can vary greatly.

“Are you married?”

For some reason, I hear that question more often than design-related ones. (Laughs)

My experience working in Taipei had a huge impact on me. At that time, workdays and nights blended together. The pace was extremely fast and the standards were very high. Honestly, it was painful at times, but that high-pressure environment also pushed me to improve very quickly. Looking back now, many of my abilities and ways of thinking were shaped during that period.

Our clients mainly come from the high-tech and financial industries. These industries have very different communication languages and branding needs, which makes the work both challenging and interesting.

Honestly, I enjoy all kinds of design work. Different types of projects come with different problems and challenges, and that is exactly what makes design interesting. Every project requires new ways of thinking and understanding. I think that constant change keeps things fresh.

I do not have any plans. I will see where time takes me.

Sometimes I work independently, sometimes collaboratively, and sometimes… I choose not to work at all. (Laughs)

I usually do not feel ready to share unfinished works.

People can contact me through our website: www.u-see.com.tw. Feel free to leave a message.

No more. I am already tired after answering 39 questions. (Laughs)

This core metaphor arose from our re-examination of the everyday act of "changing months."The turning of pages in a traditional desk calendar typically evokes a linear sense of time: one page passes, the next begins; the previous month is flipped over, covered up, or even considered over. However, our perception of time is not like this. The emotions, memories, work traces, and life fragments left behind each month still exist, only covered and shifted by new time, slowly accumulating into a personal temporal landscape.Therefore, we began to consider: if months weren't simply turned over, but rather like a slide—that can be pulled out, reinserted, and re-viewed—could time transform from "consumption" to "accumulation"?Once this idea emerged, it became the structural core of the entire work. Each month is no longer just a flat surface bearing dates, but a fragment of time that can be moved, replaced, and recombined. Every time a user changes months, it's like reorganizing their relationship with time: some things are moved to the front, some left behind, and some are recombined with new colors, shapes, and light.For us, the design philosophy of Time Slide originates from this action. It transforms the desk calendar from a mere timekeeping tool into a device for viewing time. Time here is no longer just recorded, but also preserved, reorganized, and perceived. This is why we chose "slide" as the core design language: "slide" embodies both the physical action of sliding and replacing, and the connotations of viewing, projecting, and capturing fragments of memory.Once this metaphor was established, all subsequent design decisions became clear: months must be interchangeable, colors must overlap, the cut shapes must create new relationships between layers, and the support must recede into the background, allowing time itself to become the protagonist of the image. The purpose of the entire work is not to allow people to quickly flip to the next month, but to make them realize that each change of month is actually a ritual of re-encountering time.

I believe the most distinctive feature of Time Slide compared to traditional desk calendars lies in its transformation of how users interact with time.The typical use of a desk calendar involves flipping through pages, tearing out pages, or changing pages, treating time as a continuous and unidirectional unit of information. Time Slide, however, designs each month as a slide that can be pulled out, inserted, and rearranged, making "changing months" a conscious action. Users don't just look at the dates; they experience time being preserved, accumulated, and recombined through the act of changing, rearranging, and viewing the layers.This interaction transforms the desk calendar from a passive information carrier into a time-manipulating device that fosters personal engagement. Each month change alters the relationship between colors, shapes, and images; even the same set of months, arranged in different orders, creates different visual landscapes. This allows users to not merely consume time, but to reshape the appearance of time in their daily lives.I believe this is what particularly interested the judges: Time Slide's innovation doesn't rely on complex technology, but rather redefines the desk calendar user experience by starting with a very subtle, everyday action. It transforms the calendar from a mere reminder of dates into a design interface for memories, emotions, and the perception of time.From a user experience perspective, the slide-exchange mechanism also fosters greater engagement. Users can choose the combination of months they wish to display, allowing the calendar's visuals to change according to their personal state. This openness imbues the work with replayability and long-term companionship, enabling each user to create their own unique temporal landscape.Therefore, the value of Time Slide lies not only in its novel form but also in its simple, intuitive, and poetic interaction, which makes people realize that time is not discarded page by page but continuously leaves its mark, generating new meaning with each rearrangement.

From the first prototype to the final, stably mass-producible product, this process made it clear to us that the precision of Time Slide is not merely a production standard, but an integral part of the entire design language.The concept of this work is built upon the idea that "months can be pulled out, inserted, and rearranged." Therefore, each piece of paper must simultaneously possess two states: it must be gentle enough to convey the paper's inherent delicacy and sense of time; it must also be stable enough to withstand repeated replacement and layering. The seemingly small 2mm boundary actually determines the entire work's feasibility. Too wide a boundary would make the image bulky, losing the lightness a slide should possess; too narrow a boundary would cause the paper structure to deform, warp, or tear, making the user feel uneasy during handling.Therefore, technological limitations did not compress our design; instead, they forced us to more accurately understand the language this work truly needed. Laser engraving, high-precision die-cutting, paper thickness, fiber orientation, cutting depth, and boundary tolerance all ultimately return to the same question: can this month be picked up and put back as quietly, steadily, and lightly as a preserved piece of time?After numerous prototypes, we adjusted the laser focus, cutting power, cutting depth, and masking methods, and repeatedly tested the feel and structural response of the paper during replacement. If, when the paper is pulled out, the user notices only the technology itself, the precision isn't natural enough. Only when the user can intuitively replace the paper and focus on the changes in color, layering, and the months, does the technology truly recede into the background.Our judgment of sufficient precision doesn't come from achieving a single numerical standard, but from the simultaneous fulfillment of operation, viewing, and emotion. The paper stands stably, with no unnecessary burden at the edges; the replacement feels clean and without hesitation; the layered image retains its tranquility, delicacy, and order. At this point, the 2mm boundary is no longer just a technological challenge, but becomes an invisible structure supporting the concept.For us, the emotional power of Time Slide comes from restraint. It cannot be overly decorated, nor can the traces of craftsmanship overshadow time itself. When the technology is so precise as to be almost imperceptible, the user will feel the more important action: taking out a month and putting it back in, like rearranging a memory. That was also the most crucial turning point in the transformation of this work from its prototype to its finished product.

I believe the most significant change brought about by this action is that it transforms the experience of "time passing" from a sense of disappearance to one of accumulation.Tearing out or turning a page in a traditional desk calendar often carries a clear sense of ending. When a month is torn off, it feels like it's being removed from view, symbolizing the passing of that time. This usage aligns well with a linear view of time: the past month ends, and a new month begins. However, in real life, our perception of time isn't so cleanly severed. The work, emotions, encounters, disappointments, and expectations left behind each month still exist, simply receding into the background, becoming part of our present state.Time Slide allows users to pull out the month and slide it to the back of the shelf. This small action has a profound psychological impact. It doesn't discard time, but rather places it in a different position. As the old month moves to the back, it still exists within the overall structure, forming a new relationship with the new month, colors, and shapes. Users realize that the past hasn't disappeared, but rather participates in the present in a different way.Over the course of a year, this action fosters a more gentle relationship between people and time. Each month's change is like a brief pause: What have I just experienced? What has this month left behind? How will the next month cover, continue, or change the previous time? This ritual doesn't force users to reflect, but naturally slows them down a little.I also believe this psychological shift is precisely the mindfulness that Time Slide aims to convey. It doesn't remind people to cherish time through complex functions, but rather through a quiet, repetitive, and physically memorable action that allows one to feel the depth of time. The months slide from the front to the back, like memories receding from the present into the inner self; a new month appears in the foreground, yet is still supported by layers of the past.Therefore, Time Slide doesn't simply create a date update, but a way of reconnecting with time. It allows users to repeatedly experience throughout the year that time isn't discarded page by page, but rather, with each movement, overlay, and re-viewing, it gradually forms its own unique landscape.

The most unexpected discovery in these tests was that clean laser engraving doesn't entirely depend on stronger or more precise cutting capabilities, but rather on how gently the material is handled during processing.Initially, we thought that finding sufficiently stable laser parameters would allow us to achieve ideal lines and cuts on light-colored paper. However, after prototyping, we found that light-colored paper is extremely sensitive to scorch marks, smoke marks, fiber charring, and heat discoloration. Any excessive energy leaves traces, which immediately disrupt the quietness required for Time Slide. This led us to view laser processing as a delicate balance, rather than simply pursuing deeper, faster, and more precise cuts.Surface masking helped us understand that protecting the paper surface is itself part of the design quality; parameter optimization revealed the subtle relationships between power, speed, focal length, and number of passes; and the back-side engraving test was particularly crucial. It keeps the front visually clean, minimizing process traces while preserving necessary structural and line precision. This discovery changed our perspective on the manufacturing process: some technologies, the more effective they are, should recede into places imperceptible to the viewer.This process of repeated testing directly shaped the aesthetic character of the finished product. Time Slide requires restraint, lightness, transparency, and layering. If the cuts are too sharp, the work will appear rough; if the lines are too heavy, the overlapping of the moons will lack breath; if the edges are not stable enough, the user will feel fragile and uncertain when changing the pieces. Therefore, we continuously adjusted the materials, cutting depth, laser energy, and masking methods to ensure the paper's structure was sound while maintaining visual softness.The final production method was actually shaped step by step by the materials themselves. 450gsm paper provides sufficient thickness and support, but it also requires us to respect the direction of the paper fibers, thermal response, and boundary tolerances. When the processing method began to adapt to the material, rather than forcing the material to conform to the shape, the work's tone became more precise: quiet, precise, and restrained, yet still retaining a tactile feel and warmth.We also realized that the perfection of Time Slide does not come from the display of craftsmanship, but from the feeling left behind after the craftsmanship is properly concealed. When users see clean color surfaces, meticulous cuts, light layers, and the natural visual changes that occur as each month is swiped through, then the technology truly supports the concept. The process testing ultimately shapes not only the production method but also the quiet expression this work deserves in the face of time.

When designing the twelve months, we didn't treat them as twelve independent images, but rather as twelve segments of a year. Each month needs its own character, but together they must form a continuous, readable annual sequence.The choice of color was the first key element. We didn't directly use seasonal terms, such as green for spring and blue or yellow for summer, but rather considered the psychological temperature, atmosphere, and emotional state each month might evoke. Some months are lighter, some more saturated, and some need to retain a sense of tranquility and transition. This gives each month its own distinct character while avoiding overly intuitive seasonal symbolism.The design of the cut graphics is more like controlling the rhythm of time. Each month piece has its own geometry, curves, or organic shape, but we examine its state when viewed alone, superimposed, or moved to the background. That is, a graphic cannot only exist in its current month; it must also be able to become the background for other months in the future, relating to new colors. This makes each piece of paper both a protagonist and a layer of memory.To ensure the twelve months are distinct yet maintain a sense of unity, we established a set of implicit rules: boundary proportions must be consistent, the visual language must belong to the same family, colors must maintain a harmonious blend, and visual density must not suddenly become too heavy or too light in any month. These rules allow the artwork to maintain order amidst change, ensuring that no matter how users rearrange the images, it still feels like a complete work.The most challenging aspect was preventing each month from overstating itself. Because the Time Slide visuals continuously change with user actions, overly strong individual designs would disrupt the balance of subsequent layering. Therefore, we chose to allow each month a degree of openness. It exists as a month on its own, and becomes a layer within a larger visual sequence when included in the annual sequence.This also returns to Time Slide's understanding of time: a year is not twelve separate units, but rather twelve experiences that overlap, shift, and respond to each other. The design of colors and visual proportions ultimately serves this concept. As users rearrange the months, the artwork generates new shadows, layers, and color relationships; the image is neither entirely determined by the designer nor entirely random, but rather collaboratively created by the users' journey through time.Therefore, we wanted Time Slide's annual visual sequence to possess a duality: each month has its own expression, while the overall design resembles a gradually unfolding timeline. It allows the desk calendar to continuously change throughout the year, and also lets users feel that time is not merely the replacement of individual months, but a landscape slowly built from many fragments.

The reusable matte acrylic stand isn't just an added environmental statement for us; it's an integral part of Time Slide's overall design logic. This work explores how time is preserved, accumulated, and revisited, so its structure should reflect the same value: retaining the main structure while allowing replaceable parts to continue in a lighter form.Traditional calendars are often discarded entirely at the end of the year, regardless of how much material can still be used. Time Slide separates the stand from the paper pieces. The stand, as a stable, durable, and long-lasting base, is retained; the paper pieces, carrying the content of each year, can be updated, replaced, and recombined. This design shifts the product lifecycle from "once-a-year consumption" to "partial updates during long-term use."This also reflects a key attitude of Yu-Hsi in design practice: we are not concerned with the moment the work is seen, but rather with how it is used, preserved, and what value it retains after fulfilling its communicative purpose. For printed materials, sustainability doesn't just come from the materials themselves, but also from whether the structure can withstand the test of time, whether the form makes people want to preserve it, and whether the usage reduces unnecessary repetitive production.The matte acrylic stand plays a quiet role here. It doesn't overshadow the paper, colors, and light and shadow, but provides stable support, allowing each year to begin anew with a new moon. This design approach ensures that "updating" is not equivalent to "discarding," and gives the passage of time a gentler material logic.From a broader perspective of graphic design, Time Slide proposes a possibility: graphic design objects can shift from one-off dissemination items to long-term interfaces with a usage cycle, replacement mechanism, and collectability. Posters, calendars, packaging, brand gifts, or event items can all be reconsidered regarding which parts need updating, which parts are worth retaining, and which structures allow users to continue engaging at different times.Therefore, Time Slide's sustainability thinking doesn't just stop at reducing materials, but attempts to change the relationship between people and objects. When a design item is something users are willing to keep, reuse repeatedly, and even look forward to the next update, it ceases to be just an annual consumable and becomes a design object that can prolong memory, extend use, and strengthen emotional connections. This is also the value we hope to convey through Time Slide: good graphic design can be light and long-lasting; it can convey messages and accompany you through time.

Time Slide is an honest self-introduction for us. Originally designed for USEE's own annual operations, it carries more than just date functionality; it also embodies our perspectives on design, time, materials, and user experience.Many clients in the technology industry often prioritize efficiency, accuracy, logic, and clarity in communication. These are indeed necessary conditions and fundamental principles we place great importance on in our long-term service to technology clients. However, we also believe that good communication goes beyond simply conveying information clearly. Especially in branding, sustainability, annual meetings, recruitment, product image, or corporate communication, what truly leaves an impression is often the emotional structure formed behind rational messages.Time Slide perfectly showcases the capabilities USEE wants to offer to clients: we can start with a very everyday, seemingly functional object and reorganize its behavior, materials, and visual language to create a deeper emotional connection. A desk calendar is originally just a tool for managing dates, but through the changing slides, the layering of paper, the shifting colors, and the monthly rearrangement, it begins to evoke feelings about how time accumulates, leaves its mark, and becomes part of one's personal experience.This echoes a common challenge we face when collaborating with technology clients. The tech industry possesses a wealth of professional content, technical jargon, and rational information, but the task of design is to make this content understandable, believable, and memorable. We don't view emotion as the opposite of rationality. For us, emotion represents a higher level of communication: it imbues information with warmth, provides entry points for complex content, and allows brands to build recognition and memorability beyond efficiency.Time Slide utilizes precise paper processing, 2mm margin control, laser cutting, a color system, and reusable supports—all reflecting Youxi's commitment to detail and production quality. It appears quiet, but behind it lies a very rigorous structural approach. This is what we hope our clients see in our work: creativity is not decoration, and poetry is not ambiguity; truly mature design can build emotion within precise constraints and create memory based on functionality.Therefore, Time Slide conveys USEEi's work ethic. We understand the tech industry's demands for efficiency, logic, and professionalism, and we believe that design can further transform this rational content into a perceptible, engaging, and memorable experience. It allows clients to see that Happiness can handle both information and emotions; it can establish order and imbue that order with warmth.As an annual item for internal use, Time Slide also represents our own standards: even everyday items given by the company to clients, partners, and the team should possess a clear concept, mature craftsmanship, and a memorable user experience. This is precisely how we hope Happiness will be understood: a design company that can transform rational messages into emotional forms and execute them with precise craftsmanship.

Of all the design decisions for Time Slide, we believe the one most easily overlooked by first-time viewers is the separation of the "reading area" and the "writing area" within each month's slide.Many people will first notice the colors, the shapes, the layering effects, or the way the slides are changed, but we actually spent a lot of time thinking about this: a desk calendar, while possessing poetic beauty and collectability, must still allow users to use it quietly. Dates need to be clearly read, and notes, reminders, and markers from daily life also need a place. Therefore, we didn't let the visual graphics completely occupy the months themselves, but deliberately reserved space for writing and breathing.This choice seems restrained, but it's key to the success of Time Slide. Because if the entire work only pursued visual hierarchy, it might become a beautiful display item; but when the desk calendar truly enters life, users will write down meetings, trips, anniversaries, work deadlines, or some small daily arrangements. These handwritings bring time back from an abstract concept to the personal context of life.What we most hope users will stop and notice before their first use is that this work doesn't treat time as a mere decorative image. It allows both viewing and engagement. The layered cuts and colors evoke the mood and landscape of time; the white space and writing areas allow users to imbue their lives with their own. Only when these two coexist does Time Slide truly transform from a design object into a time interface that accompanies you throughout the year.This is what we consider the most subtle yet crucial aspect: Time Slide's beauty stems from a usable order. It doesn't demand distant appreciation, but rather invites users to gradually build a relationship with it through daily planning, marking, and changing months. When a month sheet is removed and moved to the back, the writing on it recedes into the overall structure; the recorded events don't disappear but become part of the annual landscape.If someone encounters Time Slide for the first time, we hope they first notice the quiet balance: the thickness of the paper, the precision of the edges, the layering of colors, the rhythm of the cuts, and the white space reserved for writing. These white spaces are not unfinished areas, but rather spaces for the user's life to enter the artwork. For us, this is precisely the part of Time Slide most worthy of pausing to observe.

As Time Slide enters broader international design discussions, the question we most hope it will raise is how graphic and communication design can re-examine the temporality of physical objects.Many printed materials are often designed as one-time carriers of information: delivered, used, then replaced or stored away. But we believe that printed materials still have great potential to become a longer-lasting interactive interface. They can be touched, moved, preserved, and can slowly change with the user's pace of life. Time Slide aims to present this very idea: a seemingly ordinary object can still carry concepts, rituals, memories, and emotions.If this work inspires other graphic and communication designers, we hope they will begin to consider: Is paper only meant to be viewed? Are months only meant to be turned over? Is time only meant to be consumed? Can a printed design engage the user, change the object during use, and even give the design a reason to remain a year later?For us, the core value of Time Slide lies in its shift of graphic design from static viewing to dynamic experience. Color, cut, paper thickness, and support structure all serve the relationship between the user and time. As users rearrange the months, new layers and shadows emerge in the image; when a moon is moved to the back, past time is repositioned within the overall structure. This elevates the design beyond a finished product, continuously generating new elements with each user interaction.Looking ahead, extending the visual and conceptual language of Time Slide, we hope it retains its original restraint, precision, and poetry while exploring more open time scales. It could develop into a long-term system with interchangeable years, or extend to paper-based interfaces related to brand gifts, souvenirs, exhibition items, corporate annual communications, or sustainability reports. Different themes, industries, and users can all potentially create new forms of "time accumulation."We also anticipate future versions further exploring the relationship between materials, structure, and emotion. For example, how can the support structure be used for longer periods? How can moons achieve richer layers with less material? How can color respond to different cultural perceptions of time? How can the segmented graphics extend from annual rhythms to personal memories, corporate milestones, or urban experiences?The next step for Time Slide may not necessarily be to become more complex. Instead, we are more concerned with how to retain a deeper sense of time within a simpler form. It reminds us that graphic design can still create lasting experiences through paper, light and shadow, tactile sensation, and usage. When a printed material can make people stop, re-examine time, and be willing to keep it, it has transcended the task of a single communication and become a design language that accompanies life.