Qihang Zhang

LEGENDARY INTERVIEW

Design Legends ("DL") had the distinct honour to interview legendary designer Qihang Zhang ("QZ") for their original perspective and innovative approach to design as well as their creative lifestyle, we are very pleased to share our interview with our distinguished readers.

DL: Could you please tell us a bit about your design background and education?

QZ : My design journey didn’t begin in a traditional art school—it evolved at the crossroads of storytelling, systems thinking, and human experience. I hold a Master’s degree from Harvard University in Learning Design, Innovation, and Technology, and a Bachelor's degree in Communications and History from UCLA. Though my formal education wasn’t in graphic or product design, it gave me something equally important: a deep appreciation for how people learn, interact, and make meaning. I initially aspired to work in entertainment, but my early experiences in visual communication—designing social media campaigns for National Geographic and creating content strategies at Tesla—sparked my interest in user experience. I began teaching myself design tools like Figma and Sketch, gradually shifting toward product design through hands-on projects, mentorships, and self-directed exploration. That self-taught foundation has become one of my greatest strengths. It trained me to approach design not just as a craft, but as a mindset—one rooted in empathy, iteration, and the courage to bridge disciplines. Today, I work as a Senior Product Designer at Chartmetric, where I lead design for data-driven music analytics tools used by global artists and industry professionals. My work is deeply shaped by my interdisciplinary background, and by the belief that good design starts with understanding people, not pixels.

DL: What motivates you to design in general, why did you become a designer?

QZ : I became a designer because I believe design is one of the few disciplines where logic and emotion can coexist—where systems thinking meets human stories. My motivation comes from a deep desire to make complex things feel simple, and to help people navigate their world with more clarity, dignity, and connection. Growing up between cultures and disciplines, I often found myself acting as a translator—between ideas, between people, between experiences. Design became my most natural language for doing that. What truly moved me toward design wasn’t just the visual craft—it was the realization that design can heal, empower, and reveal. When I co-founded Memory Land, a project that helps families preserve their loved ones’ legacies through digital storytelling, I witnessed firsthand how design could transform grief into a space for reflection and resilience. That experience showed me that good design isn’t about decoration—it’s about holding space for emotion and making difficult experiences a little more navigable. Even in my current role designing music data tools at Chartmetric, what motivates me isn’t just organizing analytics—it’s knowing that the right interface can help an emerging artist be discovered, or help a team make smarter, faster creative decisions. I design because I care about people. I care about clarity. And I care about using technology in a way that doesn’t just move fast—but moves with intention.

DL: Did you choose to become a designer, or you were forced to become one?

QZ : I chose to become a designer—but not all at once. It wasn’t a single decision made in a moment of clarity, but rather a series of choices, curiosities, and turning points that led me here. I started out studying communications and storytelling, thinking I’d work in media or entertainment. But along the way, I found myself more drawn to the structure behind the stories—the interfaces, the experiences, the systems that shape how people interact with information and emotion. So I started teaching myself design—not because someone told me to, but because I couldn’t stop wondering: Could this feel clearer? More intuitive? More human? No one forced me into this path. In fact, I had to carve it out myself—without a traditional design degree, without a linear roadmap. But that’s what made the choice even more meaningful. Every project, every tool I learned, every prototype I iterated was a decision to lean in further. So yes, I chose design—but more than that, I kept choosing it. And I still do, every day.

DL: What do you design, what type of designs do you wish to design more of?

QZ : I design digital tools and experiences that help people make better decisions, tell deeper stories, and feel more connected—to data, to others, and to themselves. At Chartmetric, I lead the design of AI-powered music analytics platforms used by global teams at Sony, Warner, and TikTok. My work focuses on transforming complex data into clear, actionable insights—especially for artists, managers, and executives who don’t always speak “data” fluently. I’m drawn to this kind of systems-level design because it requires clarity, empathy, and vision—three things I believe every great product needs. I also co-founded Memory Land, an award-winning immersive app that helps families preserve memories and grieve through interactive storytelling. That project opened my eyes to the power of design beyond utility—to design as a space for healing, emotional processing, and legacy-building. Going forward, I want to design more experiences that sit at the intersection of intelligence and emotion. Tools that don’t just “work”—but resonate. I'm especially interested in designing for creative professionals, marginalized voices, and intergenerational storytelling. I believe these areas hold enormous potential for meaningful innovation—and I want to be part of shaping that future. Whether it's building a mobile app, architecting a data dashboard, or crafting a memory interface, my goal is the same: to design things that matter. Things that last. Things that feel human.

DL: What should young designers do to become a design legend like you?

QZ : First, thank you—but I don’t think of myself as a legend. I think of myself as a student of design—just one who’s committed to staying curious, staying kind, and solving real problems with care. If I had to give advice to young designers, it would be this: 1. Design your own path. You don’t need a traditional degree or a perfect portfolio to start. I didn’t. What you do need is the courage to begin, and the willingness to keep showing up—even when things feel messy or uncertain. 2. Lead with empathy, not ego. Design isn’t about making things look pretty. It’s about understanding people—their frustrations, hopes, and goals—and creating experiences that meet them where they are. The more you listen, the better you’ll design. 3. Obsess over the “why.” Anyone can learn tools. What will set you apart is your ability to ask better questions. Why does this matter? Who does this serve? What would make this unforgettable? 4. Don’t wait for permission. Some of my most meaningful work—like Memory Land—started as self-initiated experiments. Design legends aren’t just hired into greatness. They build it—project by project, with relentless purpose. 5. Stay human. It’s easy to get lost in pixels and process. But never forget that design is ultimately about people. If you can bring clarity, dignity, or delight into someone’s day—you’ve already done something legendary.

DL: What distinguishes between a good designer and a great designer?

QZ : A good designer creates solutions that work. A great designer creates solutions that work beautifully—and resonate on a deeper level. While good designers often stay within the boundaries of a given brief, great designers have the ability to reframe the problem entirely. They uncover unspoken needs, anticipate edge cases, and often bring clarity to ambiguity that clients or teams couldn’t articulate on their own. The difference lies not only in execution, but in thinking. Great designers operate at multiple levels at once—they can zoom in to perfect a single interaction, and zoom out to shape systems, strategies, and long-term impact. They don’t just improve aesthetics or usability; they influence direction, culture, and the very purpose of the product. But beyond technical ability, I believe the most important trait of a great designer is presence. Great designers listen—not just to stakeholders, but to the tension, silence, friction, and unmet needs within the user experience. They ask better questions, challenge assumptions with humility, and design with a deep sense of care for both form and function. In my own experience, the turning point came when I stopped designing just to meet expectations—and started designing to elevate meaning. That’s when I began to move from good to great.

DL: What makes a good design a really good design, how do you evaluate good design?

QZ : A really good design goes beyond usability—it demonstrates clarity, empathy, and intention. It solves the right problem, for the right people, at the right time. What elevates a design from simply “good” to truly effective is its ability to connect on both a functional and emotional level. It should feel intuitive, yet surprising; familiar, yet fresh. To me, a great design disappears in use—it doesn’t call attention to itself unnecessarily, but instead makes the experience feel effortless. It also anticipates edge cases and reflects an inclusive mindset, ensuring that a broad spectrum of users can engage meaningfully. Good design respects the user’s time, minimizes cognitive load, and aligns with a deeper purpose. When I evaluate design—whether mine or someone else’s—I ask: Is it solving the right problem? Is the solution human-centered, or just technically impressive? Does it reflect craft and care? And most importantly, does it serve real people in a way that is thoughtful, relevant, and sustainable? Design isn’t just about what’s visible on the screen—it’s about the values embedded in the experience. The best designs don’t just look good; they feel right.

DL: What is the value of good design? Why should everyone invest in good design?

QZ : Good design creates clarity in a world full of noise. It transforms complexity into simplicity, friction into flow, and functionality into meaning. When done well, design is not a cost—it’s a multiplier. It elevates how products perform, how brands are perceived, and how people feel when interacting with something. Investing in good design isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about trust. Whether you're building a product, a service, or a community, the design is often your first and most consistent touchpoint. It signals who you are, how much you care, and what kind of experience you promise. When design is thoughtful and intentional, users feel it instantly—and they respond with loyalty, confidence, and engagement. From a business perspective, good design reduces confusion, support tickets, and churn. From a human perspective, it gives people tools that feel empowering instead of overwhelming. It respects their time, honors their needs, and often leaves a lasting emotional impression. In short, good design is good business—but more importantly, it's good humanity. It's how we make systems more humane, technology more accessible, and everyday experiences more beautiful, efficient, and inclusive.

DL: What would you design and who would you design for if you had the time?

QZ : If I had the time and freedom, I would design for those whose voices are often overlooked—people navigating grief, displacement, cultural disconnection, or digital exclusion. I’m deeply interested in how design can serve not just convenience or commerce, but also healing, memory, and belonging. I would love to build tools that help families preserve intergenerational stories, especially in diasporic or marginalized communities where memory is often fragmented. Imagine an interface that combines oral history, multimedia timelines, and AI-generated prompts to help elders and youth co-create a living archive—not just of facts, but of feelings, language, and identity. It wouldn’t be a product for scale—it would be a product for intimacy. I’m also fascinated by how we might design for emotional transitions—moving homes, changing careers, saying goodbye. These are deeply human experiences, and yet most tech today is optimized for productivity, not for pause, reflection, or closure. If I had more time, I’d explore these in-between spaces. I’d design not just for users, but for witnesses, rememberers, and rebuilders—people who are trying to make sense of change, and who deserve tools that are as thoughtful and compassionate as they are capable.

DL: What is the dream project you haven’t yet had time to realize?

QZ : My dream project is to create a global, digital memory atlas—a platform that allows people from different cultures and generations to preserve and explore their personal histories in an emotionally rich, interactive way. It would be part archival tool, part immersive experience, part emotional infrastructure. Users could upload voice notes, old photographs, text fragments, even AI-regenerated visuals of lost places or people—then weave them into story paths that feel alive. These memories could be geolocated, shared with family members, or linked to wider cultural narratives. It would be both personal and collective, capturing the fragments of who we are and where we come from in a way that traditional archives never could. This project stems from my own experience growing up across continents and trying to piece together cultural identity through scattered stories. I believe millions of others feel the same disconnection—and design can bridge it. It’s a project that would require collaboration across design, history, ethics, and AI—but I believe it’s possible. More importantly, I believe it’s needed. I haven’t had the time or resources to build it yet. But one day, I will.

DL: What is your secret recipe of success in design, what is your secret ingredient?

QZ : If I had to name one secret ingredient, it would be emotional intelligence. Tools, systems, and processes are important—but what consistently guides my best design decisions is the ability to listen deeply, notice unspoken needs, and respond with empathy. I’m drawn to the subtle things: the frustration behind a click, the memory buried in a photo, the silence that says more than the feedback. I treat every design challenge as a human story in disguise. Another key ingredient is that I didn’t come from a traditional design background—and that turned out to be a strength. I trained in storytelling, communication, and systems thinking, which taught me how to make meaning before I learned how to make mockups. Because I taught myself design, I had to be relentlessly curious and adaptive. I questioned everything. I experimented more freely. That mindset stayed with me. Ultimately, my recipe for success isn’t about knowing all the answers—it’s about asking better questions, caring more than expected, and designing not just for what people do, but for what they feel.

DL: Who are some other design masters and legends you get inspired from?

QZ : I’m deeply inspired by designers who move beyond aesthetics to create systems, stories, and emotional resonance—those who design not just what things look like, but what they mean. Dieter Rams taught me that clarity and restraint are not limitations—they’re acts of respect toward the user. His principles still influence the way I reduce visual noise and let meaning emerge through form and function. Paula Scher inspires me with her unapologetic energy, typographic intuition, and ability to turn language into visual identity. Her work reminds me that design can be loud, opinionated, and unforgettable—while still being grounded in purpose. John Maeda has had a profound impact on how I view the intersection of technology, art, and humanity. His thinking around “computational design” and human-centered innovation gave me permission to embrace my own interdisciplinary background. Beyond the household names, I’m constantly inspired by everyday designers who work quietly in healthcare, education, or social impact—those creating tools for underserved communities, often without awards or headlines. These designers remind me that design is not about ego—it’s about ethics, empathy, and everyday change. I also draw creative energy from musicians and artists like Brian Eno or Ryuichi Sakamoto, whose works feel like design in sonic form—minimal, emotional, and deeply attuned to time and space. In the end, I’m inspired by anyone who designs not just for performance, but for presence—people who leave behind more understanding than noise.

DL: What are your favorite designs by other designers, why do you like them?

QZ : One of my all-time favorite designs is The New York City Transit Map redesigned by Massimo Vignelli. It wasn’t perfect, but it was daringly abstract—elegant, systematic, and unapologetically modernist. I admire how it challenged people to see the subway not as geography, but as a network of logic. It was a statement: design could simplify chaos without oversimplifying intelligence. I also deeply admire Apple’s Human Interface Guidelines from the early iOS era. While often overlooked as a design object, they showed extraordinary clarity in articulating spatial thinking, motion, and gesture in a way that made touchscreens feel human. It wasn’t just documentation—it was philosophy turned into interface, and it shaped how a generation learned to interact with technology. Another favorite is Naoto Fukasawa’s MUJI wall-mounted CD player. It’s quiet, poetic, and purposeful. I’m drawn to its restraint and subtle nostalgia—it doesn’t try to impress, but instead invites a moment of pause. That kind of emotional humility in industrial design is rare, and I find it deeply moving. In the digital realm, I’ve always admired Airbnb’s Experience Flow from its earlier years. The onboarding, transitions, and tone of voice worked together so seamlessly that the product didn’t feel like software—it felt like a well-traveled friend guiding you through possibility. It showed me that interface design could also be hospitality. What I love most in all of these examples is that they don’t just function—they carry intent, feeling, and perspective. They’re not just tools—they’re thoughtful presences in people’s lives.

DL: What is your greatest design, which aspects of that design makes you think it is great?

QZ : Among the many projects I’ve worked on, I consider Memory Land to be my most meaningful and impactful design to date. Memory Land is an immersive digital experience I co-founded and led the design for. It reimagines how we process grief, preserve personal memories, and maintain emotional continuity with those we’ve lost. Instead of presenting grief as something linear or clinical, we designed a space where remembrance becomes a journey—interactive, customizable, and deeply personal. What makes this design great to me isn’t just the interface, but the intent behind it. We combined AI-enhanced storytelling, multimedia memory timelines, and CMS-powered galleries to allow families to build virtual spaces that reflect the lives of their loved ones. From the color palettes to the typography to the pacing of each screen, every element was designed to convey warmth, dignity, and quiet emotional resonance. It was also a project where we innovated on multiple levels—technically, we explored new ways of presenting memory in a digital format; emotionally, we opened a conversation around digital legacy and healing that’s often avoided in the tech space. But what truly makes it great in my eyes is the feedback we received from users. People told us they cried, they felt seen, they remembered. And as a designer, there’s no greater honor than knowing your work didn’t just function—it comforted.

DL: How could people improve themselves to be better designers, what did you do?

QZ : I believe great designers are built more through mindset than credentials. Tools and trends will always change—but curiosity, empathy, and persistence are timeless. To improve as a designer, the first step is to observe the world more intentionally. Notice not just what works, but why. Study your favorite apps. Watch how someone struggles with a form. Pay attention to the spaces between clicks, the silence between feedback. Design is everywhere, if you learn to see it. In my own journey, I didn’t come from a traditional design school. I taught myself tools like Figma and Sketch while working full-time, often staying up late watching tutorials, recreating interfaces, and asking for critique from people I trusted. I read obsessively—not just design books, but architecture, cognitive psychology, storytelling. I wanted to understand how people think, feel, and remember. I also sought out projects that stretched me—leading new product initiatives, co-founding experimental ventures, and collaborating across disciplines. Each challenge taught me how to adapt, communicate, and solve problems at a deeper level. The most important thing I did? I stayed curious. I asked questions even when I felt like I “should” know the answer. I kept pushing when something didn’t work the first—or tenth—time. And I reminded myself that design is not about being the smartest person in the room. It’s about making others feel understood, empowered, and seen.

DL: If you hadn’t become a designer, what would you have done?

QZ : If I hadn’t become a designer, I would likely have become a storyteller, educator, or cultural researcher—someone still deeply involved in understanding how people make meaning and connect with each other. Before design, I studied communication, history, and learning sciences. I was drawn to how narratives shape behavior, how environments influence memory, and how ideas can be translated across generations and mediums. I think I would have continued along that path—perhaps building educational tools, curating digital heritage archives, or designing new ways for people to engage with culture and history. In many ways, that thread never disappeared. Even as a designer today, I still think like a storyteller. I still obsess over clarity, language, rhythm, and context. My work in memorial design, data visualization, and music analytics is all rooted in a desire to make invisible structures visible—and to help people understand both themselves and the systems they move through. So even if I hadn’t become a designer by title, I believe I would still be doing human-centered work. Design just became the most natural, powerful language for me to do it with.

DL: How do you define design, what is design for you?

QZ : To me, design is the act of making meaning visible and usable. It’s how we translate chaos into clarity, emotion into experience, and intention into interaction. Design is not just about how things look—it’s about how things work, feel, and live in the hands and minds of others. It’s a conversation between logic and emotion, between creator and audience, between what exists and what’s possible. Whether it’s an app interface, a physical product, or a system of information, design shapes how people navigate the world—and how they feel while doing it. Design is also responsibility. Every pixel, every interaction, every structure carries with it a set of values—what it includes, what it excludes, what it assumes. For me, good design means being conscious of that power, and using it to elevate not just usability, but dignity and empathy. Ultimately, design is a way of seeing. A way of asking better questions. A way of caring, deeply and deliberately, about the experiences of others. That’s what design means to me—and why I choose to return to it, again and again.

DL: Who helped you to reach these heights, who was your biggest supporter?

QZ : While my path has been largely self-directed, I’ve never walked it alone—and I’m deeply grateful for the people who believed in me before the world did. My biggest supporters have been the mentors, friends, and collaborators who saw potential where I saw uncertainty. Professors who encouraged me to trust my interdisciplinary instincts. Teammates who pushed my thinking with humility and care. Managers who gave me room to lead, even when I was still learning how. One of the most defining moments in my journey was when I transitioned into product design from a non-traditional background. I had no formal design degree, but people in my community—fellow creatives, educators, and technologists—offered feedback, guidance, and trust. They reminded me that design is not about credentials; it’s about curiosity, courage, and craft. I'm especially thankful to the collaborators who joined me in building Memory Land and other experimental projects. Their openness to explore uncharted emotional territory gave me the confidence to design not just with logic, but with heart. In the end, I think support isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s someone saying, “That makes sense,” or “Keep going.” And for those quiet voices that stayed with me along the way—I’ll always be grateful.

DL: What helped you to become a great designer?

QZ : What helped me become a better designer wasn’t a single course, title, or moment—but a mindset of constant curiosity and deep care. I didn’t come from a traditional design background, so I had to build my skills from the ground up—teaching myself tools, recreating interfaces, studying interaction patterns, and asking for feedback even when I felt unsure. That process gave me not only technical fluency, but a deep respect for iteration and patience. But more than anything, what shaped me as a designer was my ability to listen—not just to users, but to tension, silence, hesitation, and emotion. I learned to pay attention to what wasn’t being said. That sensitivity helped me design not just for behavior, but for feeling. Also, I never saw design as separate from the rest of life. My background in communication, education, and storytelling taught me how to make meaning—how to connect logic with emotion, and form with function. That interdisciplinary lens allowed me to ask different questions and create work that resonated beyond screens. I think what makes any designer great isn’t how perfectly they execute, but how deeply they care about impact. I’ve always approached design not just as a discipline, but as a way of seeing—and that’s what continues to guide me forward.

DL: What were the obstacles you faced before becoming a design master?

QZ : One of the biggest obstacles I faced was not having a traditional design background. I didn’t go to art school or graduate from a formal HCI program—I came from a world of communications, education, and cultural research. Early on, that meant I constantly battled imposter syndrome and the fear of “not being technical enough” or “not trained the right way.” Breaking into the design industry without that conventional resume also meant I had to work harder to prove myself. I taught myself tools like Figma, built my first portfolios from scratch, and sought out mentorship in communities that weren’t always built for newcomers. There were times when I was designing after hours, learning interaction patterns late into the night, or rewriting the same case study five times just to get an interview. But perhaps the more subtle obstacle was internal: I had to learn to trust my own voice. Because I came from a different lens—one rooted in narrative, emotion, and systems thinking—I often questioned whether my approach “counted” as design. Over time, I realized that my difference wasn’t a weakness. It was my edge. Eventually, the very things that once felt like limitations—my interdisciplinary path, my non-linear training, my obsession with memory and meaning—became the foundation of my best work. Looking back, I’m grateful for the obstacles. They taught me resilience, humility, and most importantly, how to design from a place of purpose, not just polish.

DL: How do you think designers should present their work?

QZ : Designers should present their work not just as a sequence of screens or deliverables, but as a story of problem-solving, empathy, and impact. A great presentation doesn’t just show what you made—it communicates why it matters. The most compelling presentations start with clarity: What was the challenge? Who were you designing for? What constraints did you face? This context builds trust and positions the designer as a thoughtful strategist—not just a visual executor. Then comes process. Instead of showing every iteration, I believe designers should highlight key decisions and trade-offs—what you prioritized, what you let go of, and why. This is where your thinking becomes visible. But above all, the best presentations speak to outcomes. How did the design improve someone’s experience? Did it solve a real problem? Did it bring clarity, delight, or dignity to the user? I also think tone matters. Presenting with humility, precision, and narrative flow helps others connect with the why behind the work. And the ability to frame feedback as part of the journey—rather than a threat to your ego—is what sets apart mature designers from talented ones. In short, don’t just show the artifact. Show the intention, evolution, and impact behind it. That’s what makes design—and the designer—truly memorable.

DL: What’s your next design project, what should we expect from you in future?

QZ : In the near future, my focus is on expanding the emotional and strategic intelligence of digital tools—especially in spaces where data, storytelling, and human experience intersect. At Chartmetric, I’m currently leading several design initiatives that harness AI to make music analytics more accessible, predictive, and equitable for independent artists and global teams alike. One of our upcoming projects explores how we can create real-time, adaptive dashboards that respond to users’ evolving questions and goals—essentially designing analytics tools that think more like collaborators than spreadsheets. Beyond the music industry, I’m also prototyping the next phase of Memory Land, which will integrate generative AI, spatial computing, and multimodal memory input to create even more immersive, empathetic spaces for digital remembrance. I’m especially interested in designing for legacy—how we pass down stories, emotions, and meaning across generations in formats that feel alive and personal. Long-term, I’m exploring how design can shape our emotional infrastructure—not just how we work or consume, but how we remember, connect, heal, and grow. I believe the future of design lies in crafting experiences that don’t just solve problems—but nurture presence, agency, and humanity. That’s the direction I’m heading. And I can’t wait to share what comes next.

DL: What’s your ultimate goal as a designer?

QZ : My ultimate goal as a designer is to create systems and experiences that restore emotional clarity, foster human dignity, and help people feel seen. I want to design things that don’t just “work,” but matter—tools that empower, comfort, and connect us across time, memory, and culture. Whether it’s a data platform used by global music executives or an interactive memorial app built for grieving families, I aim to design with intention and resonance. I believe design is at its best when it balances intelligence with empathy—when it simplifies complexity without stripping away meaning. In the long run, I want to help redefine what we consider worthy of design. Not just commercial apps or enterprise software, but the quiet, often overlooked moments of life—like healing after loss, remembering our ancestors, or passing down stories across generations. These are emotional terrains that deserve just as much thought, structure, and beauty. I hope to keep building bridges between design and domains like education, cultural heritage, emotional wellbeing, and ethical AI. Not to make things more “efficient,” but to make our experiences more human. If years from now, someone says, “That product helped me feel less alone,” or “That design helped me remember something I didn’t know how to hold,”—then I’ll know I’ve done what I came here to do.

DL: What people expect from an esteemed designer such as yourself?

QZ : People expect me to bring clarity to complexity, empathy to systems, and intention to every design decision I make. As a designer who has earned recognition across different fields, I’ve learned that what others expect isn’t just beautiful visuals—it’s vision, accountability, and human depth. I’m expected to lead with purpose. That means framing problems thoughtfully, listening with humility, and designing not only for performance, but for meaning. Whether I'm working on a complex AI dashboard or an emotionally sensitive memorial platform, people trust me to hold space for both logic and feeling—to make experiences that are as strategic as they are compassionate. There’s also an expectation that I stay ahead of the curve—experimenting with new technologies, adapting to emerging user needs, and pushing creative boundaries without losing sight of ethics or accessibility. Especially as we enter an era shaped by generative AI and ambient computing, I feel a deep responsibility to ensure that what we design amplifies human dignity, not just efficiency. Finally, people expect me to mentor, to share, to teach—not just through talks or workshops, but through how I collaborate, how I give feedback, how I show up for others. Esteemed design isn’t just about what you create—it’s about how you shape the field and how you uplift those coming next.

DL: How does design help create a better society?

QZ : Design shapes the systems we move through, the choices we make, and the values we uphold—often without us realizing it. At its best, design can illuminate what’s broken, amplify what’s possible, and invite us to imagine new ways of living together. Good design doesn’t just make things easier. It makes them more just, inclusive, and human. It can dismantle barriers—through accessible interfaces, multilingual platforms, or trauma-informed experiences—and ensure that people who’ve been historically excluded are finally seen, heard, and served. Design also helps society slow down and reflect. In a world obsessed with speed and scale, thoughtful design can carve out moments of care, remembrance, or connection. Whether it’s a digital memorial space that helps families grieve across borders or a clean data dashboard that empowers an artist in Nairobi to compete on a global stage, design redistributes power—not just attention. In my view, every design is a social act. It reveals who we prioritize, what we value, and how we define progress. That’s why designers must act not just as creators, but as stewards—of equity, of empathy, and of long-term thinking. A better society isn’t only built by policy or code. It’s also shaped by how we design the invisible—and whose futures we choose to include in the process.

DL: What are you currently working on that you are especially excited about?

QZ : Right now, I’m especially excited about two parallel design directions I’m leading—both rooted in innovation, but serving very different emotional and functional needs. At Chartmetric, I’m redesigning how music data is explored and understood at scale. We’re building intelligent, responsive interfaces that help users—from indie artists to global labels—make sense of fast-changing trends through AI-generated insights, smart filters, and human-centered visualizations. It’s incredibly rewarding to turn dense data into clarity, and to empower users who may not be data experts to still make strategic creative decisions. At the same time, I’m continuing work on the next evolution of Memory Land, a digital space for grief, remembrance, and emotional healing. We’re exploring how to integrate spatial computing, generative visuals, and narrative AI to help families co-create immersive memory experiences. Designing for emotion—not just utility—is one of the most meaningful challenges I’ve taken on, and I’m passionate about building digital spaces that hold presence, not just content. Both projects excite me because they ask the same core question from very different angles: How can design make information feel more human—and humanity feel more supported through technology?

DL: Which design projects gave you the most satisfaction, why?

QZ : Two projects stand out as the most fulfilling in my design career—both very different in form, but deeply aligned in purpose. The first is Memory Land, a project I co-founded that reimagines how we grieve, remember, and connect through loss. Designing for such an intimate, emotional experience pushed me far beyond the boundaries of conventional UX. Every design decision had to hold space for sensitivity—colors, transitions, typography, and even silence. What gave me the most satisfaction wasn’t just the craft—it was the feedback from users who said, “This helped me heal.” As a designer, there is no greater validation than knowing your work has become a companion in someone’s most vulnerable moments. The second is the Chartmetric Mobile App, which earned the A’ Design Award. This project challenged me to make complex, multidimensional music data accessible on small screens, while still delivering insights that empower users—from indie artists to major label executives. I led the visual design, UX strategy, and design system integration, and it was incredibly satisfying to see how the app became a daily creative companion for thousands of artists worldwide. Seeing a tool you helped shape directly influence how music is discovered, shared, and understood—that’s a kind of impact that stays with you. Both projects remind me that the most satisfying design doesn’t just solve a problem. It resonates, it uplifts, and it makes someone’s world a little clearer, kinder, or more connected.

DL: What would you like to see changed in design industry in the coming years?

QZ : In the coming years, I hope to see the design industry move beyond aesthetics and efficiency—and take a more holistic, ethical, and human-centered role in shaping technology and society. First, I want to see design reclaim its moral imagination. As AI and automation become more integrated into everyday products, we need designers who ask deeper questions—not just “Can we build this?” but “Should we?”, “Who does it empower?”, and “Whose experiences are being excluded?” Design must become a more active voice in shaping the values and consequences of emerging technologies. Second, I’d love to see more diversity of stories and sensibilities in our tools and systems. Too often, design systems are shaped by a narrow cultural lens, leading to “universal” products that don’t actually serve universal needs. We need more designers from different geographies, traditions, and lived experiences—not just to localize products, but to challenge the very foundations of what we consider usable, desirable, or intuitive. Finally, I hope the industry begins to value emotional design as much as functional design. In a world that moves fast and thinks in scale, we need to carve out space for slowness, memory, grief, joy, and reflection. Design can help people feel more grounded, more connected—not just more productive. The future of design isn’t just about making smarter products. It’s about building more humane systems—and that starts with who we empower to design, what we choose to prioritize, and how we measure success.

DL: Where do you think the design field is headed next?

QZ : I believe the design field is entering a transformative era—one defined not by new styles, but by new responsibilities. As technology becomes more ambient, predictive, and personalized, the role of the designer will shift from crafting interfaces to shaping systems of meaning, behavior, and trust. In the short term, generative AI will continue to democratize access to design tools—allowing more people to prototype, iterate, and express ideas visually. But the true opportunity lies beyond automation. Designers will be needed not just to polish outputs, but to frame the right questions, to build ethical constraints, and to infuse these systems with cultural and emotional intelligence. Design is also becoming less about screens and more about experiences—spanning spatial computing, voice, wearables, and even memory-based interactions. This means designers will need to think not only in pixels, but in time, space, emotion, and narrative. In parallel, we’ll see a growing demand for culturally responsive and trauma-informed design. As products play deeper roles in people’s emotional lives—health, loss, identity—designers must learn how to create spaces that are not only usable but safe, healing, and inclusive. Ultimately, I believe design is moving toward a phase where its impact is measured less by visual appeal and more by long-term human outcomes: Does this help people grow? Remember? Heal? Belong? And that, to me, is the most exciting shift of all.

DL: How long does it take you to finalize a design project?

QZ : The time it takes to finalize a design project really depends on the nature, scale, and emotional depth of the work. For smaller interface improvements or data-driven dashboards—like some of my projects at Chartmetric—I can often go from ideation to handoff in 2 to 4 weeks, especially when working within an established design system. These fast cycles are all about focus, agility, and clear cross-functional collaboration. But for more emotionally complex or multi-layered projects—such as Memory Land, which involved storytelling, interaction design, and cultural sensitivity—designing can take several months or more. These projects require not only iteration and usability testing, but also time for reflection, user interviews, and co-creation with stakeholders who bring deeply personal experiences to the table. That said, I never view a project as truly done. Even after launch, I believe in continuous refinement, driven by user feedback, lived experience, and evolving context. Good design is not a destination—it’s a relationship that grows over time. So while timelines vary, what remains consistent is my commitment to craft, empathy, and impact at every stage of the process.

DL: When you have a new design project, where do you start?

QZ : Every design project starts with understanding the problem, and that goes far beyond what’s immediately visible. I begin by asking a lot of questions—Why is this being designed? Who is it for? What are the underlying needs and emotions? I believe in truly empathizing with the user, not just their behavior, but the why behind it. What drives them? What challenges do they face? Once I’ve gathered this context, I move into research and discovery. I often dive deep into user interviews, stakeholder meetings, and market analysis to ensure I have a 360-degree view of the problem space. Understanding not just who the users are, but also what existing solutions they’ve encountered, helps me find the areas where design can make the most meaningful impact. I also work on sketching out the vision and strategy early in the process—whether through wireframes, user flows, or low-fidelity prototypes. The goal is to explore possibilities and communicate the big picture to all stakeholders early on. I believe design is a dialogue, so ensuring alignment at this stage is critical to moving forward cohesively. Lastly, I iterate and refine based on feedback, continuing to revisit the original problem as new insights and constraints emerge. I prefer an iterative approach that allows me to test, learn, and improve, ensuring the design not only works but also resonates with the user in ways that might not have been initially obvious. Starting with a clear understanding of the problem and a strategy for solving it, while keeping empathy at the center, sets the foundation for everything that follows.

DL: What is your life motto as a designer?

QZ : My life motto as a designer is simple: "Design with empathy, lead with intention." I believe design isn’t just about creating aesthetically pleasing objects or interfaces—it’s about solving real human problems. It’s about understanding the user’s world, their struggles, and their needs, and then crafting experiences that not only make life easier but also more meaningful. To me, empathy is at the core of every great design. It’s not just about making something usable—it’s about making something that connects. That connection is what makes design truly impactful, whether it's empowering someone with data or comforting someone through a moment of loss. And leading with intention means being deliberate about every decision you make. Design isn’t just about aesthetics or technology—it’s about purpose. Every pixel, every interaction should serve the greater goal of improving the user experience and leaving the world a little better than you found it. This motto guides me through every project, large or small, and helps me stay focused on what truly matters: the people I design for and the impact my work can have on their lives.

DL: Do you think design sets the trends or trends set the designs?

QZ : I believe design both sets trends and responds to them. It’s a dynamic relationship, where design has the power to influence the direction of trends, but trends also shape the environment in which designers work. On one hand, great design can set trends. When a product or experience is groundbreaking—whether through its aesthetic, functionality, or emotional resonance—it has the potential to reshape the industry. For example, Apple's early work with the iPhone didn't just follow trends; it created an entirely new category for mobile design that has influenced every aspect of tech design since. When a designer pushes the boundaries of what’s possible and successfully challenges the status quo, that design becomes the trend. On the other hand, trends also have a significant influence on design. As a designer, we don’t work in a vacuum. We are shaped by cultural shifts, technological advances, and societal changes. These trends inform the tools we use, the aesthetics we explore, and the problems we choose to solve. For instance, the rise of AI, accessibility, and sustainability are not just trends—they’re driving the future of design. We, as designers, must respond to these shifts by evolving our work to align with the changing needs and values of society. Ultimately, I think great designers do both—they respond to trends while also setting the next wave of innovation. This balance is what keeps design fresh and forward-thinking, ensuring that it’s not just about following, but about leading.

DL: What is the role of technology when you design?

QZ : Technology plays a crucial and enabling role in my design process, but it’s never the starting point. I see technology as a tool that allows me to amplify human experience rather than something that drives design for its own sake. When designing, my first concern is always the human need—the emotion, the story, the interaction. Technology then comes in as the means to solve that need in the most meaningful and efficient way possible. Whether it’s using AI to power data-driven insights at Chartmetric or incorporating spatial computing into the interactive memory spaces at Memory Land, technology allows me to push the boundaries of what design can accomplish. In my work, technology is a bridge, connecting human behavior with actionable insights or immersive experiences. It empowers me to design for scale, accessibility, and personalization in ways that were once impossible. But it’s also essential for me to always be mindful of the ethics of the technology I use. It’s about ensuring that technology serves to enhance the user’s experience, rather than overwhelm or dictate it. Ultimately, I see technology not as the driving force of design, but as the amplifier of intent. It allows me to translate my design philosophy into functional, interactive experiences that touch people in powerful and meaningful ways.

DL: What kind of design software and equipment do you use in your work?

QZ : In my design process, I rely on a few key software and tools that help me stay efficient, creative, and focused on the final outcome. For UI/UX design, I primarily use Figma for wireframing, prototyping, and collaborating with other team members. I also use Adobe XD for creating high-fidelity prototypes when needed. For visual design and graphic creation, I frequently use Canva for quick design iterations and social media assets, as it’s both intuitive and efficient for creating polished designs in a short time. For video editing and motion design, I use tools like Final Cut Pro, CapCut, and iMovie for quick video edits and more complex projects. I also use After Effects for motion graphics and animations when I need more detailed and dynamic elements for a project. On the hardware side, I rely on my MacBook Pro, which provides the power and flexibility to run all my design and video software smoothly. I also work with a high-resolution external monitor to ensure design accuracy across different displays. These tools give me the flexibility to tackle a wide range of projects, from static graphics to motion design and video editing, while keeping the workflow smooth and collaborative.

DL: What is the role of the color, materials and ambient in design?

QZ : Color, materials, and ambient elements play a critical role in shaping the emotional and sensory experience of a design. They are not just aesthetic choices; they are tools that convey meaning, evoke feelings, and guide user behavior. Color serves as one of the most powerful tools in design, often setting the tone and mood of an experience. The right color palette can create a sense of calm, urgency, warmth, or coolness, depending on the context. In my work, I am particularly mindful of using color to guide the user’s emotions and reactions. For example, the use of green in designs often symbolizes growth, calmness, and balance, while blue conveys trust and professionalism. The careful selection of colors helps me ensure that a design feels both intuitive and aligned with the user’s expectations. Materials in design—whether physical or digital—contribute to the texture and quality of the user experience. In digital design, materials can refer to the "feel" of interfaces—such as buttons, gradients, or shadows—that give a sense of depth and tactility. In physical product design, the choice of material can speak to the product’s durability, comfort, and luxury. For instance, smooth, matte finishes can create a modern and sophisticated feel, while more textured materials evoke a sense of warmth and authenticity. The goal is to make the user experience both tangible and memorable by carefully selecting materials that resonate with the senses. Finally, ambient elements—such as sound, lighting, or even the layout and environment—contribute to the atmosphere of a design. In digital spaces, this could mean how the user is guided through transitions, the pacing of interactions, or subtle animations that evoke a sense of fluidity and presence. In physical spaces, the use of lighting and layout helps define the mood and usability of the environment. Ambience in design is about creating a holistic experience that feels cohesive, immersive, and emotionally engaging, ensuring that users feel comfortable, informed, and connected to the space. Ultimately, these elements work together to create a sensory experience that is both functional and emotionally resonant, helping users connect with the design on a deeper, more intuitive level.

DL: What do you wish people to ask about your design?

QZ : I would love for people to ask "Why does this design feel so intuitive?" or "What emotions were you trying to evoke with this design?". To me, the ultimate measure of a successful design isn’t just functionality, but the emotional resonance it creates. When people engage with my work, I want them to feel like the design is speaking directly to them—not just as a user, but as a person with emotions, needs, and experiences. I also wish people would ask about the decisions I made during the design process—the "why" behind every choice, from color to layout, to the smallest interaction. For me, design is always about intention. Each element is chosen not for its visual appeal alone, but for its ability to solve a problem, guide behavior, and create an experience that feels cohesive and meaningful. The question I always want to hear is: "What was the thought process behind this feature?" Lastly, I hope people ask "Who is this design for?" It’s crucial for me that every design I create serves a specific purpose for a specific group of people. The user’s experience, their journey, and the context in which they will use the design are central to every decision I make. A well-crafted design should never be about the designer’s ego or aesthetic preferences—it’s about fostering a connection with the person who will interact with it. These questions reflect my belief that design should be about much more than just the visual—it should be about impact, emotion, and human connection.

DL: When you see a new great design or product what comes into your mind?

QZ : When I encounter a new great design or product, the first thing that comes to mind is "Does this solve a real problem in a way that feels natural and intuitive?" A great design should never feel forced or overly complex—it should seamlessly integrate into people’s lives, offering simplicity, elegance, and clarity. Next, I think about how it resonates emotionally. Great designs have a way of connecting with users on a deeper level, whether through the way they look, feel, or even the experience they create. I often ask myself, "How does this design make people feel?" Does it evoke a sense of trust, joy, curiosity, or calm? The emotional impact of design is just as important as its functionality, if not more so. Lastly, I can’t help but think about the thought and intention behind the design. I wonder, “What was the creative process like? What challenges did the designer face, and how did they overcome them?” I find myself admiring not just the final product but the effort and problem-solving that went into creating it. A great design isn’t just about how it looks; it’s about the story behind it—the iterative process, the failures and successes, and the dedication to creating something that serves its purpose effectively. Great design, to me, is a beautiful intersection of practicality, emotion, and innovation—and when I see it, I feel both admiration and inspiration to keep pushing the boundaries in my own work.

DL: Who is your ideal design partner? Do you believe in co-design?

QZ : My ideal design partner is someone who brings a diverse set of skills and perspectives to the table. I value partners who not only excel in their individual areas of expertise but who also approach design with curiosity, empathy, and open-mindedness. The best partnerships happen when both sides are willing to challenge each other, push boundaries, and iterate together. I’m especially drawn to people who think beyond aesthetics—those who approach design as a holistic, user-centered process, with a focus on solving real-world problems. Whether it’s a developer with deep technical understanding or a content strategist who can craft narratives that resonate with users, I thrive in teams where everyone is aligned on the ultimate goal of creating something meaningful and impactful. As for co-design, I absolutely believe in it. I think collaborative design is essential to creating products and experiences that genuinely meet the needs of users. Co-design allows for cross-disciplinary collaboration, enabling diverse ideas, insights, and expertise to come together. It also ensures that the design process is not siloed but rather reflective of the diverse contexts and perspectives in which the design will exist. I’ve seen firsthand how co-design can lead to more innovative, inclusive, and user-centric solutions. Whether I’m working with fellow designers, engineers, or even directly with users, I find that the best designs often emerge when we actively engage and collaborate with others throughout the process. The feedback, ideas, and challenges that come from diverse team members often lead to unexpected breakthroughs and better outcomes.

DL: Which people you interacted had the most influence on your design?

QZ : Throughout my design career, I’ve been fortunate to work with a variety of talented individuals who have had a profound impact on my approach to design. The people who have influenced my design the most are those who have pushed me to think differently, challenge my assumptions, and expand my understanding of what design can do. One of the most influential figures in my career has been my mentor and manager at Chartmetric, who consistently emphasized the importance of user-centered thinking and data-driven design. Working with them, I learned how to balance creative intuition with empirical data, ensuring that every design decision was backed by real user needs and behavior. Their focus on clarity, accessibility, and inclusivity has shaped much of my approach to designing meaningful experiences. Additionally, I’ve been greatly influenced by collaborations with cross-disciplinary teams, particularly content strategists, engineers, and product managers. Their ability to see beyond the visual and think holistically about the user journey has expanded my design thinking. For example, working closely with developers has given me a deeper appreciation for the technical constraints and possibilities that can shape design solutions. This collaboration has helped me create designs that are not only beautiful but also feasible and scalable. Finally, the users themselves have always been the most important influence on my design process. Listening to their stories, challenges, and feedback has made me realize that design is not about the designer’s vision—it’s about solving real problems for real people. The most transformative ideas often come from conversations with users who are directly engaging with a product or service, and their input continuously shapes how I approach design.

DL: Which books you read had the most effect on your design?

QZ : Over the years, I’ve found that books have had a profound impact on my approach to design, not just in terms of techniques, but in shaping how I think about design and its role in the world. Some books have been particularly influential in guiding my design philosophy and expanding my creative thinking. One of the most impactful books I’ve read is "The Design of Everyday Things" by Don Norman. This book opened my eyes to the importance of user-centered design and how intuitive interfaces can make or break an experience. Norman’s insights on affordances, constraints, and feedback helped me realize that design is much more than aesthetics; it’s about creating seamless, effective interactions that fit naturally into people’s lives. This book has been foundational in how I approach designing for ease and accessibility. Another book that greatly influenced me is "Change by Design" by Tim Brown. It helped me understand the power of design thinking—the concept of solving complex problems with creative, human-centered approaches. Brown’s focus on empathy, iteration, and collaboration in the design process resonated with me, especially as I moved into working on projects with cross-disciplinary teams. It reinforced my belief that design can solve not just aesthetic problems, but also deeply human ones. For a broader, more philosophical perspective, "The Elements of User Experience" by Jesse James Garrett really shaped my understanding of the interconnectedness of different design layers, from strategy to execution. This book helped me realize that each part of a design contributes to the overall user experience, and that a solid understanding of the entire experience is key to crafting seamless products. Additionally, I found "Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind" by Yuval Noah Harari to be particularly insightful, as it expanded my view on how culture, history, and human behavior shape the world we live in. While not directly about design, this book helped me better understand how humans interact with technology, and it deepened my empathy for users when designing products that influence their daily lives. Lastly, "Designing Design" by Kenya Hara had a profound impact on my approach to aesthetics. Hara’s exploration of emptiness, simplicity, and the cultural significance of design inspired me to think about design not just as a visual language but as a form of expression that can convey meaning beyond the surface. These books have helped me develop a holistic, user-centered approach to design, while also encouraging me to think deeply about the cultural, emotional, and philosophical aspects of the work I create.

DL: How did you develop your skills as a master designer?

QZ : Becoming a master designer didn’t happen overnight—it was a process of continuous learning, experimentation, and reflection. I began my journey by immersing myself in design fundamentals, but as I gained more experience, I realized that mastery isn’t just about knowing the tools or following established methods—it’s about developing a mindset of curiosity, adaptability, and empathy. The first step in my development was diving deep into theoretical foundations—understanding the psychology of design, color theory, human behavior, and the history of design movements. This knowledge gave me the intellectual framework I needed to make informed decisions. However, it was the hands-on experience that truly honed my skills. I embraced every opportunity to experiment, whether it was through personal projects, collaborations, or working on real-world client briefs. Every failure became a lesson, and every success became a benchmark to strive toward. Collaboration played a key role in my growth. Early in my career, I worked closely with other designers, developers, product managers, and even users. Their perspectives helped me see design from multiple angles and taught me to think not only in terms of aesthetics but also functionality, usability, and business impact. This holistic approach to design development was essential in refining my skills and broadening my creative approach. As I progressed, I made it a point to learn from the best. I sought mentors and colleagues who were already experts in their fields and who could challenge me to think more critically and creatively. Their guidance and feedback were invaluable in pushing me to refine my work and elevate my design thinking. Finally, I developed a habit of self-reflection. Every project I worked on, whether it was a major design initiative or a small tweak to an existing interface, became an opportunity to evaluate what went well and what could be improved. I often look back at my older work and ask myself, “What would I do differently today?” This ongoing process of reflection and iteration has been critical to my growth as a designer. In essence, becoming a master designer has been about combining theory with practice, constantly evolving my thinking, and surrounding myself with inspiring, talented people who challenge me to keep improving.

DL: Irrelative of time and space, who you would want to meet, talk and discuss with?

QZ : If I could meet anyone, irrespective of time and space, I would love to have a conversation with Leonardo da Vinci. He is the quintessential example of a Renaissance thinker—someone whose interdisciplinary approach to creativity and innovation has always inspired me. Da Vinci wasn’t just a painter or engineer; he was someone who saw no boundaries between art, science, and philosophy. I admire his ability to see connections between seemingly unrelated fields and apply them to solve complex problems. What I would love to discuss with him is how he approached the creative process—not just as an artist, but as a thinker who was deeply invested in understanding the world around him. How did he manage to merge science with aesthetics, and innovation with tradition? How did he remain so curious and driven to understand the underlying principles of everything—from the human body to the flight of birds? I believe his ability to blend different modes of thinking and seamlessly integrate them into his work is something I strive to replicate in my own practice. Additionally, I’d like to meet Maya Angelou, whose wisdom in both life and language continues to inspire me. I admire how her words transcend boundaries and her deep understanding of human emotion, culture, and resilience. Having a conversation with her would provide insights into the human condition—how we can craft designs, not just for functionality, but to elevate, inspire, and empathize with others. Her impact on storytelling and the way she gives voice to marginalized communities resonates deeply with my own work, particularly in how we use design to create meaningful experiences. Both of these figures offer profound insights into the intersections of creativity, human emotion, and innovation—elements that are central to my design philosophy. Their work continues to influence me, and it would be an incredible opportunity to discuss how their ideas can continue to shape the future of design.

DL: How do you feel about all the awards and recognition you had, is it hard to be famous?

QZ : While I am deeply honored and grateful for the recognition I’ve received, I always try to keep things in perspective. Awards and recognition are an affirmation of the work I’ve done, but they don’t define who I am as a designer. I believe they represent moments of success, but the true value of design is not in the accolades—it’s in the impact it has on people’s lives. I don’t view the recognition as an end goal, but rather as an ongoing process of growth and learning. Each award or achievement motivates me to continue pushing myself, to refine my craft, and to create designs that resonate deeply with users. At the same time, I don’t let the external recognition distract me from the core of what I do—solving problems, creating meaningful experiences, and constantly evolving as a designer. As for fame, it can be both a blessing and a challenge. On one hand, it opens doors and allows me to reach a wider audience—whether that’s clients, collaborators, or design enthusiasts. But on the other hand, it can create pressure to constantly live up to expectations. I think the key is staying authentic to myself and my values, and not getting caught up in the desire for external validation. Fame is fleeting; the work I do and the positive impact I can have on others is what truly matters. Ultimately, I see awards as a reflection of collaboration, hard work, and timing, not as a measure of personal worth. They are milestones, but not the destination. The journey itself—the design process, the learning, the growth—is where the real value lies.

DL: What is your favorite color, place, food, season, thing and brand?

QZ : I’ve always believed that personal preferences—whether it’s color, food, or season—can influence the way we design and connect with the world around us. Favorite Color: My favorite color is green. It represents growth, harmony, and balance, which are qualities I strive for in both my personal life and design work. I find green to be calming and refreshing, and it often makes its way into my designs as a grounding element. Favorite Place: The coastal areas of California hold a special place in my heart. Whether it’s the rugged cliffs of Big Sur or the serene beaches of Santa Cruz, I feel most at peace by the ocean. The vastness of the sea and the endless horizon remind me of the importance of perspective and balance in design. Favorite Food: I’m a big fan of Japanese cuisine, particularly sushi. I appreciate the attention to detail, simplicity, and balance in Japanese cooking—qualities that align closely with how I approach design. It’s all about precision and elegance, whether you’re designing a dish or a digital experience. Favorite Season: Autumn is my favorite season. The changing colors of the leaves, the cooler air, and the sense of transition all resonate with me. In many ways, autumn represents a time of reflection and growth, much like the design process itself. It’s about shedding the old and embracing something new. Favorite Thing: One of my favorite things is my sketchbook. I use it to capture ideas, brainstorm concepts, and sketch out rough designs. It’s a space for unfiltered creativity, and I find it essential in the early stages of my design process. It’s where everything begins. Favorite Brand: I admire Apple for its ability to blend technology with design in such a seamless, intuitive way. Their focus on user experience and simplicity is something that I strive to emulate in my own work. Apple’s commitment to creating products that feel both beautiful and functional is something that continues to inspire me.

DL: Please tell us a little memoir, a funny thing you had experienced as a designer?

QZ : As a designer, I’ve had my share of moments that didn’t go as planned, but one of the funniest experiences I had was during a client presentation early in my career. We were presenting a new app design, and I had spent days making sure every pixel was perfect, the user flows were smooth, and the overall design was polished. As I confidently clicked through the presentation, one of the clients, looking at the screen, suddenly pointed out that the app’s button color was almost the exact same as the background color—meaning it was virtually invisible! I remember feeling the blood rush to my face, trying to stay composed while mentally facepalming. The client noticed, and in a very polite but very serious tone, said, “I assume that button is a subtle invitation to test the app’s invisible feature?” Everyone in the room burst out laughing, and it lightened the mood. That experience taught me a valuable lesson: No matter how detailed or polished a design seems, you can’t forget the basics, like contrast and visibility. It also taught me to always double-check, triple-check, and have a good sense of humor about the inevitable little hiccups. Sometimes, the mistakes turn into the best learning moments—and they certainly give you a good story to share later!

DL: What makes your day great as a designer, how do you motivate yourself?

QZ : A great day as a designer is one where I feel immersed in the creative process, and the work I’m doing resonates with both the users and the team I’m collaborating with. It’s that feeling when everything clicks, when a design concept comes to life, and you know it’s not just beautiful—it’s meaningful and solving real problems. Whether it’s crafting an intuitive interface, discovering an unexpected design solution, or receiving positive feedback from users or stakeholders, those moments are what make my day feel truly rewarding. I motivate myself by setting clear, achievable goals and reminding myself of the bigger picture. I find that breaking down complex projects into smaller tasks helps me stay focused and avoid feeling overwhelmed. Each milestone, no matter how small, is a reminder of the progress I’m making toward the final vision. Another big motivator for me is the impact of design—knowing that my work can make a difference in someone’s day, whether it’s through improving usability, creating a more enjoyable experience, or even sparking an emotional connection. I love the idea that design can be a tool for positive change, and that thought keeps me energized and passionate about my work. Lastly, I make sure to take time for self-care and creativity outside of my professional work. Whether it’s drawing, reading, or exploring new design trends, I keep my mind fresh and inspired. I’ve found that staying curious and always seeking new sources of inspiration helps keep my motivation high and my designs innovative.

DL: When you were a little child, was it obvious that you would become a great designer?

QZ : Looking back, I wouldn’t say it was obvious that I would become a designer, but there were certainly signs early on that I was drawn to creativity and problem-solving. As a child, I loved experimenting with different materials—whether it was drawing, building things with blocks, or even trying to design my own little inventions. I was always curious about how things worked and how I could make them better or more interesting. I vividly remember spending hours rearranging my room or designing little “dream houses” with paper and markers. I was fascinated by the idea of shaping my environment in a way that felt right to me. However, at the time, I didn’t know that what I was doing was closely aligned with design—it was just a way for me to explore and create. It wasn’t until I got older and began studying design formally that I realized how much of my childhood curiosity and creativity was actually a foundation for a career in design. I also discovered that the problem-solving aspect of design—finding solutions to real-world challenges—was something I had always been naturally inclined toward, even in my early years. So, while it wasn’t something that I consciously set out to do as a child, looking back, I can see how my childhood interests in creativity, exploration, and rethinking the world around me laid the groundwork for becoming a designer. It’s a reminder that design can start with small moments of curiosity, and sometimes the seeds of what we love are planted long before we realize they will become our career.

DL: What do you think about future; what do you see will happen in thousand years from now?

QZ : When I think about the future, especially a thousand years from now, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe and optimism. Technology is advancing at an exponential rate, and it’s fascinating to imagine how it will reshape not just the way we live, but the very essence of what it means to be human. In a thousand years, I envision a world where technology and humanity are seamlessly integrated—where AI, robotics, and bioengineering work in harmony with human creativity and emotion. We may see environments that are fully responsive to our needs, blending the physical and digital worlds in ways we can’t fully comprehend yet. Imagine cities that not only adapt to our needs in real time but also evolve, learning from us and each other in a constant feedback loop. The future of design will likely evolve beyond traditional screens and physical interfaces. I see a world where immersive experiences, powered by augmented reality (AR) and virtual reality (VR), are part of our everyday lives. Designers will play a crucial role in shaping this new reality, not just crafting digital interfaces, but designing entire experiences that engage the senses, spark emotions, and create deep human connections. As far as human progress goes, I believe in a future where sustainability and global collaboration are at the core of everything we do. Climate change, resource scarcity, and global inequality are challenges we must solve together, and I think design will be a powerful force in driving those solutions. Whether it’s through circular economies, renewable energy solutions, or new forms of eco-friendly architecture, design will need to integrate nature and technology in a way that preserves and enhances life on Earth. A thousand years from now, it’s hard to predict exactly how things will unfold, but I do believe that designers will remain at the forefront of shaping a better world. As a designer, our job has always been about understanding human needs, solving problems, and creating meaningful, functional solutions—and that mission will remain just as important, if not more so, in the future. In the end, I believe the future will be a fusion of technology, humanity, and creativity, where the role of design is not just about creating products or interfaces, but about crafting experiences that transcend time and space, fostering deeper connections, and helping society evolve in positive and meaningful ways.

DL: Please tell us anything you wish your fans to know about you, your design and anything else?

QZ : First and foremost, I want my fans to know that design is not just my profession—it’s my passion. It’s the lens through which I see and engage with the world, and it’s something that constantly drives me to learn, evolve, and connect. Design has the power to make the world a better place, and I strive every day to create designs that solve real problems, enhance lives, and inspire others to think differently. When it comes to my design work, what drives me most is the idea of creating meaningful experiences. I want my designs to be more than just aesthetically pleasing; I want them to be functional, intuitive, and impactful. Whether it’s through a user interface that simplifies a complex task or a visual identity that evokes emotion, my goal is always to make a difference in how people interact with the world. A lot of my work at Chartmetric and other projects, such as Memory Land, centers around the idea of using technology to bridge human emotion with functionality. In our increasingly digital world, it’s important to design experiences that resonate on a human level, and that’s something I keep at the heart of my creative process. I also want my fans to know that every step in my journey has been shaped by collaboration and learning. No design is an island, and I’ve had the privilege of working with incredible teams, mentors, and users who have all helped me grow as a designer. Every project is an opportunity to learn from others, explore new perspectives, and push the boundaries of what’s possible. Lastly, I want to say that creativity is about more than just making things look good—it’s about problem-solving and making a lasting impact. Design should be a reflection of the world around us and should empower people to interact with it in more meaningful ways. Whether through technology, art, or storytelling, my ultimate goal is to create designs that inspire and move people. Thank you to everyone who has supported my work—it means the world to me. I’m excited to continue this journey and see where creativity takes us next.