My creative path began when I received a camera on my fourteenth birthday. Through the lens, I discovered the joy of building visual worlds—expressing mood and imagination through light, framing, and atmosphere. I realized that image-making was not just technical—it was a form of creative expression.
This led me to major in photography in college. To address my family’s concerns about career stability, I chose photojournalism, thinking becoming a reporter might be a safer path. But a video production class changed everything. I made my first short video, and the process of directing—controlling rhythm, designing scenes, guiding emotion—made me realize I wanted to do more: I wanted to become a filmmaker.
Inspired by that experience, I started a student-run video studio in my sophomore year, producing short films, experimental visuals, and commercial projects. Later, I pursued formal film education in Hong Kong and gained hands-on experience through real industry work.
But the more I experienced, the more I realized how slow and restricted the film industry could be. I began searching for a more efficient, flexible, yet equally expressive medium. That’s when I discovered branding and design as tools for emotional and cultural storytelling.
Maybe because I’ve always valued freedom, I wanted to be my own boss. So I went to the U.S. to pursue an MBA, not to leave art behind, but to better prepare myself for entrepreneurship. Today, I run my own design consulting firm and co-founded a nonprofit art foundation with friends. Our mission is to support talented creators who lack access to resources, helping them pursue their artistic dreams without unnecessary detours.
My vision is to help bring great Chinese art and design to the world. Whether as a designer, founder, or future director, I believe storytelling is how I connect with the world.
I’m the founder of Ambiwishes Technology, a creative consulting company based between Los Angeles and Shenzhen. We focus on brand identity, visual storytelling, and cross-cultural design strategy. Our clients include individual creators, emerging brands, and cultural institutions looking to build meaningful narratives and global presence.
In addition to design consulting, I co-founded a nonprofit art foundation with friends to support emerging talents—especially those who have vision but lack access to international platforms. We aim to help them grow without unnecessary obstacles.
Looking ahead, I hope to expand Ambiwishes beyond creative services. We plan to develop our own software and hardware tools in the future—design-driven technologies that improve how people live, create, and connect.
To me, design is about integration and intention. Historically, the word “design” didn’t always carry a positive meaning—it implied plotting, setting something up. And in a way, that’s still true: design is about constructing systems, setting up frameworks, and deliberately shaping outcomes.
Design is not limited to aesthetics or visuals. It exists in all areas of life—curriculum design, process design, business models, even life planning. It’s about finding a structured, effective solution to a complex need. At its core, design is the ability to see the whole picture, reorganize resources, and create a strategy that works.
That’s why I see design as a powerful and essential skill. It demands logical thinking, analytical judgment, and the ability to balance constraints with creativity. Whether I’m working on visual storytelling or building a company, I rely on design as a way to make sense of chaos and turn ideas into systems.
I’m most drawn to projects that balance creative vision with real-world impact—designs that are not just expressive, but executable. With my business background, I care deeply about whether a design can be implemented, scaled, and generate value. I enjoy creating solutions that serve both the brand’s purpose and the investor’s expectations.
The works I enjoy most are those that translate a founder’s original vision into something strategic, beautiful, and commercially viable. To me, great design is not self-indulgent—it respects constraints, delivers results, and still finds a way to be emotionally meaningful.
One of the designs I admire most is the Disney theme park system. I often wonder—who was brilliant enough to take a collection of animated characters and build an entire physical world around them? It’s more than visual design—it’s world-building at the highest level.
What fascinates me is how Disney turned intangible stories into immersive experiences, allowing visitors to step into a dreamlike world while creating a highly profitable commercial ecosystem. Every detail—from the architecture and atmosphere to merchandise and emotional cues—is part of a coherent, scalable system.
To me, it’s the perfect example of how creativity, narrative, experience design, and business strategy can all work together. It’s playful, but incredibly precise. As someone who cares deeply about both design and entrepreneurship, I find the Disney park model endlessly inspiring.
The first thing I designed that had real commercial value was a set of postcards featuring campus views of UCLA. I had just arrived in the U.S. as an MBA student, and I noticed that many students loved taking photos on campus but had nothing physical to remember the space by.
So I shot a series of campus images, designed the layout and packaging, and printed a limited batch of postcards to sell during orientation week. I sold out quickly—and made my first dollar in America, all through design.
Looking back, it wasn’t just about making something visually nice. It was the first time I consciously designed a product that connected emotion, function, and revenue. It taught me that good design creates value—not just beauty.
Right now, I’m especially fascinated by AI tools and their impact on creative work. I regularly use ChatGPT for ideation, strategy mapping, and language refinement; Midjourney for visual exploration; and Runway for fast-paced video prototyping. These tools have greatly improved my workflow—saving time, reducing costs, and helping me push creative boundaries with smaller teams.
What excites me is that AI doesn’t just automate tasks—it expands access to creativity. For independent creators and startups like mine, it enables us to prototype, experiment, and communicate ideas faster and more clearly.
But I’m also cautious. As AI becomes more capable of generating visuals, concepts, and even content strategy, I often ask myself: will these tools empower creative people—or replace them? What will originality mean in a world of algorithmically generated beauty?
I don’t have all the answers yet. But for now, I choose to treat AI as a collaborator, not a competitor. It’s still up to us, as designers and thinkers, to ask the right questions and build meaning behind the form.
Oddly, I feel most creative when I’m asleep.
My dreams are often vivid—visually rich, emotionally layered, and sometimes strangely structured like storyboards. I’ve come to realize that many of these dreams aren’t random at all. They’re extensions of the problems I’ve been thinking about during the day, processed in a more fluid, symbolic language.
In a dream, there are no budgets, deadlines, or physics—only ideas in their purest form. That freedom allows my subconscious to generate compositions, concepts, and connections I wouldn’t have found through conscious effort.
Honestly, I start with budget. As a designer with an entrepreneurial mindset—and as someone who has worked alongside many founders—I’ve learned to treat budget not as a constraint, but as a starting point.
Before thinking about visuals or style, I always ask: What’s the actual budget? Based on that, I choose the right materials, production methods, or even scale of expression. A beautiful idea that can’t be executed within real-world limits isn’t good design to me.
I believe great design allocates resources wisely. When you’re building a brand, a product, or a system, design must speak both emotionally and economically. That’s the kind of thinking I value most—creative, but grounded.
It’s a mix of emotions—rarely simple or singular.
I feel a strong sense of responsibility, especially when I’m designing for founders or mission-driven teams. I know every decision I make affects not just aesthetics, but people, budgets, timelines, and sometimes even dreams.
At the same time, I often feel tension and creative pressure. I’m constantly balancing constraints—limited time, tight budgets, high expectations—while still trying to make something meaningful and beautiful.
But there are also moments of flow, when things click. When a structure falls into place, or a concept finally resonates, there’s a quiet joy—deep, not loud. For me, design isn’t a burst of passion. It’s a kind of long-burning commitment, sometimes hard, sometimes magical.
Relief, first. Especially in real-world projects where deadlines are tight and resources are limited—seeing a design actually land is like exhaling after holding your breath for weeks.
Then comes focus. I quickly shift into observation mode: how people respond, what works, what needs to be adjusted. I don’t stay in the “celebration” stage very long—I care more about whether it truly functions.
But sometimes, quietly, I do feel moved. Especially when I see a founder standing in their new space, or a user interacting with something we built—that moment reminds me that design, when done right, really can change something. And that always brings me back to why I started.
To me, a successful design is one that solves the right problem at the right depth. It aligns with its context—business goals, user needs, budget, timing—while still holding space for originality and emotion. A good design doesn’t just make things prettier; it creates clarity, connection, and momentum.
The first thing I look for is clarity of intention. Is it clear what the design is trying to say or solve? Then I look at structure—how well the visual or functional system supports that intention. Beauty matters too, but only when it amplifies meaning or usability. If a design is beautiful but confusing, it’s a missed opportunity.
Designers don’t just shape products—we shape perceptions, behaviors, and values. We have a responsibility to ask: What kind of world are we reinforcing through our work? I believe design should create value, not waste; inspire progress, not just consumption. In an age of overstimulation, thoughtful design becomes an act of ethical clarity.
The design field is shifting from being purely visual to becoming more strategic and interdisciplinary. It’s no longer just about how something looks—but how it behaves, how it communicates, and how it fits into a larger system. Designers today need to think in terms of user experience, business goals, social impact, and scalability.
Within this shift, AI has become a major accelerant. On one hand, it has lowered the entry barrier—anyone can generate images, layouts, even logos with a few prompts. On the other hand, it has raised the standard for professionals. Execution alone is no longer enough.
The future belongs to designers who can combine creative thinking with system logic—who can guide not just what is made, but why and how it should be made. I don’t think AI replaces designers; it redefines their role. Our value will lie not in how quickly we produce visuals, but in how wisely we define meaning and structure.
My most recent exhibition was in 2025 at the Red Dot Design Museum in Xiamen, China. My packaging design for Chillwild—a tea brand inspired by traditional Chinese herbal philosophy—was selected for a special exhibition on traditional craft and contemporary design. It was a meaningful moment for me, both as a designer and as someone deeply connected to Chinese culture.
As a Chinese creative working across borders, I’ve always wanted to find modern ways to honor and reinterpret our cultural heritage. In the future, I hope to exhibit more works internationally that bring Chinese aesthetics and philosophies into global conversation—through design that is both contemporary and rooted.
My inspiration comes from three main sources.
First, real people. I often get my best ideas from listening to founders, clients, or users talk about their frustrations or dreams. When people speak with emotion, they unintentionally reveal the problems that really matter—and that’s where design begins.
Second, culture. As someone deeply connected to Chinese heritage, I find endless creative material in language, rituals, visual codes, and philosophical concepts. From ancient medicine to seasonal rhythms, Chinese culture offers a rich visual and emotional system that constantly inspires me.
Third, contradictions. I get inspired when things don’t quite make sense—when tradition meets tech, when softness meets order, when I feel emotionally off-balance. I try to stay open to ambiguity, because that’s often where the original thinking starts.
To stay creative, I don’t wait for ideas—I build inputs: I read across disciplines, walk in unfamiliar neighborhoods, experiment with AI, and keep a visual diary. Creativity is less about sudden magic, more about being present, observant, and responsive.
I would describe my design style as structured, emotionally restrained, and narrative-driven. I’m not drawn to noise or trendiness—I prefer clarity, rhythm, and systems that can scale or evolve.
This style grew naturally from my background. I started in photography and film, where framing and timing are everything. Later, I worked in branding, advertising, and business strategy. These experiences taught me that good design is not about decoration—it’s about delivering a message clearly, beautifully, and with intention.
My work often centers around typography, layout hierarchy, cultural textures, and story-informed visuals. I avoid overdesigning—I’d rather leave space for the viewer to feel and interpret.
My process always begins with structure: What is the core message? Who are we speaking to? What are the real limits? Once the frame is clear, I shape tone, pacing, and visual metaphors. I believe great design is not about impressing—it’s about communicating with precision and empathy.
I live between Shenzhen and Los Angeles. Culturally and professionally, I move between East and West—and that in-between space has shaped both my identity and my design philosophy.
Chinese culture deeply influences my work. I’m drawn to rhythm, symbolism, restraint, and structure. I’m inspired by our materials, medicine, language systems, and even philosophies like yin-yang or five elements—which I often translate into visual logic or spatial flow.
The benefit of this background is that I can bridge two worlds. I can interpret Chinese aesthetics for global audiences and bring international thinking into Chinese creative projects. But it also means I’m sometimes misunderstood, or I have to explain more than others.
I work more like a creative partner than an outsourced designer. My goal is not just to deliver visuals, but to help shape direction—whether for a brand, a product, or a system.
I usually begin by understanding the business model, audience, and long-term vision. From there, I help clarify the core message, structure the brand’s identity system, and build visual assets that can scale with the company.
I care deeply about practicality. I design for real constraints: team size, budget, production channels. I don’t believe in “one-time wow”—I focus on building systems that grow, evolve, and adapt.
I especially enjoy working with founders and teams who see design as part of their strategic growth—not just as decoration. That kind of collaboration leads to the most meaningful results.
First, companies should stop seeing design as decoration. Design is not just about how something looks—it’s about how something works, communicates, and grows. If you’re serious about long-term success, treat design as a strategic asset, not a cosmetic fix.
To choose a good designer, don’t just look at their portfolio—look at how they think. Can they understand your business model? Can they translate complex ideas into clear visual systems? Do they ask good questions before showing solutions?
Once you start working with a designer, trust is everything. Share your business goals, constraints, and concerns openly. A good collaboration happens when the company brings the “problem and vision,” and the designer helps shape the “path and form.” Don’t micromanage pixels—co-build meaning.
My design process usually begins with structure, not visuals. I start by clarifying: What is the core message? Who are we speaking to? What should this design help achieve?
Once that’s defined, I create a logic map—sometimes in FigJam, sometimes in my notebook. Then I begin testing tone, rhythm, and form. I move between writing, sketching, references, and quick prototyping. I also build moodboards early—not just for aesthetics, but to align emotion and intention.
Before I finalize anything, I always step back and ask: “Can this grow with the brand? Can it be implemented under real-world constraints?”
1.Smartphone – One of the greatest inventions in human history. It has evolved from a phone into a universal tool: camera, editor, remote control, wallet, car key, creative studio. Almost everything I do passes through it.
2.Gaming Console – Games are one of the most complex forms of interaction, and consoles are what make them playable. Great games combine logic, design, aesthetics, and addiction mechanics. They’re not just entertainment—they’re interactive art.
3.Sony A7R V Camera – I still find it magical that we can “freeze” light and memory. This camera gives me creative control and cinematic quality in one compact tool. It’s both emotional and precise.
4.Smart Home Controller – A real-life quality-of-life upgrade. One screen controls lights, air, curtains, and more. It’s design doing what it should: making life easier, smoother, better.
5.Coffee Machine – A well-designed coffee machine isn’t just functional—it adds ritual. It makes you pause, prepare, enjoy. What it delivers is far beyond caffeine.
Because I work across time zones, my days usually start late and end late. The first thing I do after waking up is make coffee—it’s my mental start button.
As a founder, I handle many tasks: team communication, client projects, product building, content planning. I often work 12–16 hours a day, but I enjoy it—because I’m doing what I truly care about.
My schedule is flexible but intense. I shift between collaboration, decision-making, and content creation. I don’t separate “life” and “work” strictly—but I do manage my energy, focus, and momentum with intention.
Don’t rush to find your “style.” Find your lens—your way of seeing, questioning, connecting. The rest will come.
Work on your system thinking as much as your visuals. The future of design is not just how it looks, but how it integrates.
Also, don’t be afraid to be boring. Some of the best designers I know are obsessed with details, structure, and timelines. Consistency beats inspiration.
And finally—protect your curiosity. That’s the only part AI can’t replace.
Pros: You’ll never get bored. You deal with new problems, people, and systems constantly. You get to learn fast and turn creativity into value.
Cons: Information overload, blurred boundaries. Designers are often asked to solve things outside their scope, while their core creative space shrinks.
Not software. It’s information synthesis. You need to hear vague problems, break them down into structure, goals, and emotion—and then design something that actually works.
I follow a fairly strict schedule. Before each project, I estimate how much time each stage will take and intentionally leave room for flexibility.
I don’t procrastinate—I start when it’s time to start. And when needed, I can think fast under pressure. But most of the time, I rely on planning and execution, not last-minute inspiration.
Depends on complexity. A simple poster or packaging takes 2–5 days. Full branding systems usually need 2–4 weeks. Projects involving naming, storytelling, or cross-media execution can take 1–3 months.
Can you just do something simple, whatever you think?”
I usually reply: “Not really—because chances are, you won’t like it and we’ll end up redoing everything. Design isn’t a guessing game.”
If you’re not sure what you want yet, let’s figure that out first—then I’ll design something that fits.
fter founding my studio, I led several 0-to-1 brand builds. We weren’t just designing—we were creating names, positioning, and even helping with first revenue. It changed how I see design: not just visual, but business-critical.
I mainly work with:
• Early-stage founders who need naming, brand strategy, and full visual systems;
• Cultural and art-related organizations looking to build structured storytelling and identity;
• Creative professionals applying for international visas, needing background curation and visual support;
• Personal brands or designers aiming to grow their international presence with strategic design.
I love 0-to-1 projects. You get to name, frame, style, and define everything. Every decision matters—and you get to build something that didn’t exist before.
I’m focusing on building the Anti-Ordinary Incubator, a platform I initiated to support Chinese creatives with global potential. The goal is to provide strategic, long-term support for international growth—through design, storytelling, and structured opportunity systems.
I’m also incubating a few new brands rooted in Chinese cultural logic, such as Chillwild, a modern herbal lifestyle brand.
Long-term, I want to build a cross-cultural creative ecosystem—a support system where talented but under-resourced creatives can be seen, grow, and thrive globally.
I lead the core creative direction, but I work with a trusted circle of designers, developers, and editors. Depending on the project, I expand into a small agile team.
Yes, I’m currently leading a platform I personally founded and initiated, called the Anti-Ordinary Incubator, supported by the Glowstar Art Foundation (U.S.). It’s designed to serve Chinese creative professionals—including designers, artists, and content creators—who are looking to expand internationally.
This is not just a design task—it’s a full-scale platform I built from the ground up. I lead everything from brand strategy, visual systems, content structure, membership design, to database and AI-based tools. The goal is to offer structured, long-term support for creatives navigating global opportunities—not just content or inspiration.
For me, design is not a job title—it’s a way of thinking. It’s a tool for solving problems, building systems, and communicating meaning.
At the core of what I do is something simple: I want to help people like me take fewer detours.
If the things I’ve struggled to figure out can save someone else a few years—or give them more options—then everything I’ve built is worth it.
I started with visual storytelling—photography and filmmaking—before gradually expanding into branding, advertising, digital design, and cultural curation. Eventually, I transitioned into creative entrepreneurship. Today, I run a cross-cultural design consulting studio and serve as the founder and creative lead of multiple platforms and brand initiatives.
My background spans journalism photography, film production, and an MBA, which allows me to approach design through the lenses of communication, narrative, and business structure. I work with early-stage founders, cultural institutions, lifestyle brands, education platforms, and globally ambitious creatives.
For me, design is not about styling—it’s about building systems. Every project begins with structure and ends with a solution that’s executable, sustainable, and culturally resonant.
I received my first camera on my 14th birthday—that moment sparked a deep fascination with expressing ideas through visuals. I studied photography and visual journalism in college, but a short film class shifted my focus toward motion storytelling. That was when I realized I wanted to design narratives, shape timing, and direct emotion.
Since then, I’ve built my creative path across disciplines: film studies in Hong Kong, brand execution in advertising, and later, an MBA in the U.S. that helped me merge creativity with strategy.
I didn’t become a designer through a traditional art school route—I became one by solving real-world problems. To me, design is a form of structured thinking. It’s about clarity, communication, and creative leadership.
I focus on three priorities in my design work: clear structure, precise messaging, and emotional restraint. I’m not drawn to visual spectacle—I care more about whether the design solves a problem, builds a system, or communicates feeling effectively.
My process starts with thinking, not visuals. I begin by mapping the information structure, then move into visual language. My style leans toward editorial clarity, narrative rhythm, and thoughtful spacing. I like designs that breathe.
Technically, I work with Figma, Adobe tools, and AI platforms like Midjourney, Runway, and ChatGPT to speed up ideation and structure-building. To me, design is about compression—translating complex ideas into sharp, usable forms.
Design, for me, is emotional logic in motion.
I usually start in a calm, analytical state—mapping structure and goals. But once I enter the phase of shaping rhythm, tone, and visual energy, emotion flows in. The best moments are when something just “clicks”—when a design element locks into place and feels undeniably right.
I find deep joy in the shift from chaos to clarity. It brings a sense of creative control, but also emotional resolution. Design is how I express thought—and how I create order out of noise.
My background spans photography, filmmaking, branding, education, and business. These aren’t traditional “design” paths—but they shaped the designer I am today.
My storytelling ability comes from film. My sense of information flow and layout comes from photography. My business judgment and user-centric logic come from my MBA and branding experience. My sensitivity to culture comes from years of content strategy and working across global teams.
These experiences allow me not just to design visuals—but to structure ideas, define strategies, and build ways of expression that go beyond aesthetics.
My growth has always been hands-on. I went from being a creator to a creative director, and now, a founder and system-builder leading cross-cultural design initiatives.
Right now, I’m focused on the Anti-Ordinary Incubator, a long-term project I initiated and lead under the Glowstar Art Foundation. It’s designed to support Chinese creatives seeking global growth through strategic design, content planning, and digital tools. I want this platform to become a foundational infrastructure for global creative mobility.
My dream projects are never just about aesthetics—they’re about making design a tool for life transformation. Projects like GlowPass, opportunity databases, or visa support systems are how I apply design thinking to real, structural problems.
My growth has always been hands-on. I went from being a creator to a creative director, and now, a founder and system-builder leading cross-cultural design initiatives.
Right now, I’m focused on the Anti-Ordinary Incubator, a long-term project I initiated and lead under the Glowstar Art Foundation. It’s designed to support Chinese creatives seeking global growth through strategic design, content planning, and digital tools. I want this platform to become a foundational infrastructure for global creative mobility.
My dream projects are never just about aesthetics—they’re about making design a tool for life transformation. Projects like GlowPass, opportunity databases, or visa support systems are how I apply design thinking to real, structural problems.
Don’t get obsessed with your “work”—invest in building systems.
A system could be your workflow, your service structure, your design logic, or your client communication playbook. What you can replicate and improve becomes your real asset.
Also, don’t hide behind “style” to avoid clarity. Style is not a filter—it’s a byproduct of expression. If you don’t know what your design wants to say, no level of polish will make it meaningful.
Most importantly: design is not about visuals—it’s about choices. Your value lies in how well you can make the smartest decisions within limited time, budget, and attention.
My daily routine depends on time zones and project stages. Mornings are for deep work—brand strategy, concept structuring, or storytelling. Afternoons are for meetings and collaboration. Evenings are quieter and often when my creative clarity is sharpest.
Little things that satisfy me: a smooth internal sync, a name that clicks, or a line of copy that nails the point.
I observe design trends as a way to track social shifts—but I don’t let them dictate my direction. I prioritize long-term structure and cultural grounding over seasonal aesthetics.
My inspirations come from visual platforms (Behance, Pinterest, Xiaohongshu), emerging tech tools (AI), and shifts in culture and public emotion.
At its core, good design solves a problem. It must meet the functional goal, respond to real needs, and communicate clearly with smooth interaction and emotional relevance.
Design isn’t about visual tricks or aesthetic collages—it’s about creating structure with intention. If you need to explain your design for it to be understood, it might not be good enough.
It’s ready when I stop hesitating.
Designs can always be improved, but I set clear stop-points: does it meet the goal, is it executable, and can it integrate into a larger system? If yes to all, I move on.
When I think about my biggest design work, it's not necessarily the one with the most visuals or complexity—but the one that carries the greatest vision and deepest meaning.
That would be the "Anti-Ordinary Incubator," a platform I founded and lead. It combines brand strategy, visual systems, content planning, and digital tool development to support Chinese creatives in building a global presence. It’s not just for designers or artists—it aims to bridge creative talent and the world stage.
What drives me is a core belief: the world should hear the voices of Chinese creatives—not only through traditional culture, but also in contemporary language, identity, and value.
This project made me realize that design isn’t just about what we produce—it’s about what we enable. I hope it becomes an infrastructure-like system: one that consistently creates opportunities for visibility, empowers people to express themselves, and encourages them to reach beyond borders.
That’s why this is the most important—and most alive—design I’ve ever done. And perhaps, it’s the one I’ll spend a lifetime building.
I greatly admire Sagi Haviv for his mastery of logos—minimal yet precise. I’m also inspired by architects like Tadao Ando and Álvaro Siza, who taught me that "silence" can be a form of storytelling.
I live and work between China and the U.S.—mostly Shenzhen and Los Angeles. Culture is inseparable from my design thinking. Music plays while I work, streets give me ideas, and exhibitions are part of my lifestyle.
I enjoy working with people who are proactive and think like owners. I prefer small, strong teams over layered hierarchies.
In collaboration, trust and shared goals matter more than rigid processes. If there’s a problem, we fix it—fast. For me, design is not a service. It’s co-creation.
The Anti-Ordinary Incubator I created has a strong philanthropic dimension—we offer free strategic advice, exposure, and exhibition access to under-resourced but talented creatives.
I believe design shouldn’t be elitist. It should lower the barriers and expand opportunities.
A’ Design Award gave me an amazing international platform to showcase my work and connect with creators worldwide.
The top three benefits for me: global exposure, project collaborations, and a clearer understanding of my own design system.
Being selected as Designer of the Day is an honor—and a chance to share my creative mindset and cultural roots with a broader audience.
I entered the creative field through visual storytelling—studying photography at first, then moving into filmmaking to train my sense of rhythm and narrative structure. Later, I pursued an MBA in the U.S. to explore how design connects with business, technology, and culture.
I didn’t follow a traditional academic path. My background is interdisciplinary, blending creative expression with system thinking and strategic problem-solving.
Design, for me, is a way to respond to reality. What truly motivates me is the satisfaction of solving problems—seeing chaos and bringing clarity, structure, and better possibilities through design.
I became a designer because I believe design can improve human life. It helps make complexity more logical, and the world a little more humane.
I originally wanted to become a film director—but the film industry is slow, with long production cycles. Real life, on the other hand, demands faster expression and quicker feedback.
So outside of filmmaking, I started using design to convey ideas, solve problems, and build systems. Design gave me a faster, more efficient way to engage with the world and create impact.
So no, I wasn’t forced to become a designer—but reality and timing pushed me in that direction, and through practice, I realized this was the path that truly fits me.
I don’t just design individual products—I build 0-to-1 systems. I love starting from brand positioning and moving through business strategy, visual identity, user experience, and execution. What excites me most is designing projects that span concept, structure, and launch as one integrated journey.
Don’t rush to prove your talent. First, develop your ability to solve complex problems. Practice judgment, synthesis, and communication. Turn your expressive energy into structural power—and commit to long-term thinking. Go deep, not just wide.
A good designer solves the brief. A great designer redefines the problem. That’s the difference—are you executing what's given, or are you reframing the question entirely?
I define great design as something that genuinely solves a problem, communicates without explanation, and can be used, scaled, or extended over time. Aesthetics are valuable—but not the core.
Good design saves time, reduces friction, improves clarity, and builds trust. It’s not an add-on—it’s your operating system for interacting with the world. Investing in design means investing in efficiency and brand equity.
I’d design better information spaces for everyday people—so they don’t have to suffer from complexity, redundancy, or institutional chaos. For example: a more human immigration information system, or a platform that helps creatives make better career decisions. Not to build smarter tools—but to create gentler systems.
My dream project is to build a platform for global Chinese creatives—not just a showcase space, but a structural support system. It would gather opportunities, projects, resources, and cultural expression. I don’t just want China to be seen—I want Chinese creatives to see each other, and cross boundaries together.
My secret is simple: I treat creativity as structure. I don’t chase inspiration—I build reusable logic. Even the most complex project falls into place when the structure is sound.
I admire designers who express profound ideas with minimal language—like Sagi Haviv. He reminds me that a logo can be just a shape, and still carry the weight of an era.
My greatest design is the "Anti-Ordinary Incubator." It’s not a single piece—it’s an evolving system. What makes it great is that it’s not just about me—it creates a channel for many others to speak.
See design as long-term structural thinking, not just short-term artistic output. I train daily in judgment, logic, language, and business sense—not just style or taste.
I might have been a film director. I’ve always had a strong sense of framing and storytelling. But that’s exactly why I chose design—it’s more efficient, with faster cycles and direct impact.
It wasn’t one person—it was a network of people who trusted me: partners, clients, friends. They gave me space to define not only the projects, but also myself.
You are now at the right step
Join Designers.org & Start Promoting Your Design Worldwide.