In Chapter 3 of Artful Design, Ge talks about visual design in the context of interactive software. Through case studies of Ocarina and other pieces, Ge introduces many principles as lenses to inform design.

While computer programming is not explicitly stated here to keep the discussion at a general level, many of the principles here do really shine when examined at the scope of creating engaging and lively experiences out of an otherwise rigid and mechanical device that is programming.

Towards this goal, many useful insights were provided. For instance, enriching the motion of objects is essential for providing deeper meanings and establishing connections to the user. I used to think of computer visual design as static forms that exist, and animation as mere ornaments to connect static frames together. But as Ge observed, motion really is an essential process across many mediums such as music and animation, that give us cognitive continuum and a perception of change.

All of this ties back to Principle 3.7 in the book, that one should “prompt users to experience substance (not technology)”. I think there is indeed something natural in how humans perceive of things. Rephrasing the quote from Heraclitus of Ephesus in the book, life is a constant state of flux and everything flows. I think one way to consider how technology fits into design process, is to observe the two sides of it — the “good” side of technology that adds to this flow, conceals itself, and make user feel substance, as opposed to the “bad” side that technology creates distraction to the flow by overly emphasizing its functional core and standing in the way of aesthetics.

In fact, I believe we can sort instances of technology in this dialectic relationship. The dark side of technology would in my opinion, involve forms that constantly reminds us this is computer work, such as jarring graphics, boring materials and colors and straight lines and triangles that lack variation and look like they are mass pre-fabricated, and systems whose component don’t fit together organically, so that it makes us suddenly conscious of the technology. The good side of technology would include shapes that are super easy fo humans to red but meticulously programmed and tuned behind the curtain. (Yes, I think there’s a good amount of correlation here), and copies of forms that despite using the power of replication of programming, varies every so slightly and organically to surprise the viewer and remind them this is not just “computer work”, this is careful human selection and decisions in the loop.

To conclude this response, I want to remark that perhaps design itself is a process that benefit from flow and continuity. In the design of the audio visualizer in our class project, I cannot help but feel that the design I’m building is a huge boat that I’m navigating, and sometimes abrupt changes to design just doesn’t feel right. Wouldn’t it be more natural to let it drift on its own instead of trying to always inject my own opinions and making “sharp turns” that slows the boat down? Is good design also about learning from the previous iterations and experience a continuum of fresh inspirations and follow that path, and not be constantly anxious of how it has deviated from the original intentions?