Goodnight Moon, Goodnight Zoom
Carnegie Mellon Survey of Design Fall 2020: Lighting Engines
I want to go back to late August when I could lay on the turf in the middle of the football field at 1AM. It’s finally the perfect east coast summer temperature. The 1984-Big-Brother-Looking CMU billboard changes between slides of blue, white, red, green, and black background colors every few seconds eerily illuminating my face, reflecting in the whites of my eyes. I lay in this absolute stillness, in this absolute comfort.
Project Debrief
We are beings that use light to understand the world we live in. The natural world has light as a part of it, and for many years we only knew the use of one natural source; the sun. In time we learned to make our own built-light, fire. Since then we’ve developed many other ways to generate and harness light. Artificial light is the norm for much of our world, easing our use of the night, illuminating spaces which natural light can never reach. Our lighting mediates our sense of time and space, thus it places a major role in our lives. As designers, we create important objects like lamps, that can provide people with beauty and enjoyment in combination with utility, which is why we’re taking on this challenge.
The task: Create a lighting engine that is a one-off real thing, not a prototype of a yet to be produced market product, that exists in two states: ON and OFF.
Context that my lighting engine exists in: comforting oneself while sleeping
Questions to ask throughout project:
• How does the context inform the type of lighting needed/wanted?
• How can the form of the light describe its use?
• What ‘story’ does it tell when it is on?
• What is the quality of light that it produces?
• How might the light affect us?
• What is the utility of the light?
• What ‘story’ does it tell when it is off? (It’s still there when it’s OFF.)
• What is the character and mood of the object?
I want to start this project by being especially considerate of the context that this lighting engine is being placed in. It is important to think about the contextual space this lighting engine will exist in because it functions past just illumination. It adds to the space both when it is and isn’t in use, and therefore needs to be naturally visually integrated into the space.
When not in use, this same space for “comforting oneself while sleeping” can be used for many other relaxing activities, whether right before going to bed or at dawn. What comes to mind for me is: reading books, listening to music, sitting or laying somewhere comfortably, sipping tea or coffee, sketching, writing, or petting a cat. The space would have to be one that makes a lonely experience a lovely one as well. And it would be mostly quiet, in a way that eases concentration. The light should feel personalized and special to that space and moment — the very start, and very end to every day.
Regarding places that I enjoy also using to nap: I think of corners, bay windows, rooftops, and sunny patches of grass. Places where I can bask in the sun or burrow into corners. Places that make me feel warm and safe.
I think about places where the amount of sound can easily be controlled — which are in turn places where generally most facets of the environment can be controlled and manufactured, from the surrounding volume to the temperature. Thinking about my personal association of nature with comforting sleeping spaces, I wonder if I should consider making a lighting engine for an outdoor space… or, to take it even further, create a lighting engine that can simulate aspects of a nature/outdoor space.
Regarding lighting of these spaces, I think something that is contained and easy to control could be ideal. Features of my light I would like to experiment with include:
- Allowing the user to control/change the amount of distance the light can travel.
- Allow the user to control/change the dimness/intensity of light
Allowing the light to be changed depending on the mood also allows it to be more special in a way; the exact look of the light in the moment can never be replicated again.
Another detail to resolve is how the light exists on its own:
- Does it stand — if so, on what?
- Does it need to be easy to move around, or should I (as the designer, and dictator of all my users’ actions) make it difficult to move around — so that it won’t be moved around.
- Or, does it hang?
- And, whether it stands or hangs, how close is the light expected to be placed near the user?
I don’t think I’ve ever outgrown nightlights. I actually brought my boba looking one to CMU with me, currently sitting on the drawer/makeshift nightstand in my dorm. It’s nice because it turns off by itself after half an hour.
The other nightlight I’ve had is the IKEA spoka light, which I’ve had since my early childhood and is now discontinued from production (which actually makes me quite sad because the battery life on it has been dying). The spoke light gives me a great deal of comfort, whether from the nostalgia of having it for so long or just because of how cute it is. It is made of silicone, and is very soft to touch. Although my lighting engine for this project will be made of paper, I still want it to convey a balance of feelings of delicacy and durability.
Mimic the physiology of falling asleep.
These nightlights also offer a sense of intimacy; they can easily fit in the palm of your hand, and also create a “glow” rather than functional luminance. The user is almost forced to stay close to the light. In a completely dark room, it can be completely forgotten how vast the space actually is; because of the short distance the light actually travels and the close proximity of the user to the light, it could feel like one is lost or floating in the room. Nothing else can be seen. This could feel comforting in spaces of physical loneliness.
Understanding the Medium
Initial capabilities of paper I want to explore:
- distance between paper and lightbulb: how does this affect the brightness/amount of dispersion of light
- layers of paper: organic vs inorganic
- different types of paper
- how to make it interactive
- how to make it stand
Also, this reminded me of an art piece I made earlier this year exploring the relationship between the distance light travels and the distance the light is from the subject it is projecting on.
The Setting and The Mood
What’s the story I want to tell?
Semantic Differentials
Some ideas to play with // THE TANGIBLE:
- The stand: hanging, sitting, clipped onto mattress, multifunctional(?)
- Ability to expand and compress. Ability for user to personally change what the lighting engine looks like, and therefore change the amount/type/look of light dispersed from it.
- Dispersion of light: a soft, round glow → light directed specifically in one direction → deliberate pattern in shadows cast
- Balance between simplicity and complexity. Simple design, complex outcome. Try using few pieces to convey more.
Some concepts to think about // THE INTANGIBLE:
- Biomimicry.
––Light is not alive, yet it is necessary for almost all life.
- Placement of light next to user: glow like a heart, next to the heart.
––Have you ever been close enough to someone, held so close for just long enough, that you start breathing at the same rate, your chests rise and fall together. You can hear both your heartbeats, your bodies are in perfect sync, and suddenly you feel whole.
- Honestly, I just want to make something huggable. A child captures a firefly in the palm of their hand and holds it close to their heart. I want that.
- Subconscious associations: Does this remind you of a specific memory? An age in your life, a trip you took, a recurring dream? How can I create something universal, yet achingly familiar? (collective unconscious much, lol)
- We are so lucky to have light. Energy from the sun has to travel further than any human eye can ever see, and must get past so much to reach our eyes. Every little detail about how the world works has to operate together perfectly, and it does. Every single day.
- What do dreams look like? What do dreams feel like?
Some words of which I want to work with. Not sure if they belong in the tangible or intangible section:
- BLOOM
- BEAT. PULSE. RHYTHM.
- Stargaze. At any hour of the day.
- Navy blue
- Endless oceans
- EMBRACE
Sketch Models
“If you impose workability and success on ideas, you will probably throw out so many good ideas. Some of you are your own worst enemies in idea generation.”
Inspiration: https://pin.it/3MutsVP
Criteria — list of characteristics the light engine should embody:
- Flexibility/versatility and controlled placement of light depending on user: should not depend on the varying heights of dressers or bedside tables; in some cases, the user may not even have a table area to place the engine on. Also, I want to make the decision for the user that the light should be placed near them, and beds are mostly naturally arranged in a room so that at least one side is adjacent to a wall. Attaching the light to this wall guarantees a constant close proximity of the light engine to the user.
- Controlled projection of light: The light should not illuminate the user as much as it does the bubble of space around them.
- Feels alive: I want the lighting engine to feel emotional. Engulfing. Embracing. Thus, comforting.
Questions — I’m exploring:
- If I’m choosing to mount something to a wall, how do I make the lighting engine strong enough so that only one piece of it needs to be mounted, and the rest stays put, despite gravity?
- Is having my lighting engine hang from a wall even a good idea, lol?
- How can I use varying materials in a way that they complement each other, and look visually intentional rather than just functionally intentional?
- I understand the importance of the lighting engine looking visually pleasing and appropriate for the space while both on and OFF. What if it can’t be seen while off at all? Is this necessarily a “bad” thing?
Sketch Model Series: Hanging from Wall
In this series of sketch models, I worked with the technique of hanging the light from the wall.
In SM#1, I layered paper in petal shapes along the wall with the intent of achieving a gradient of light dispersion through the layering.
In SM#2, I made a light box placed in the space between the wall and the bed, so that there was a glow emitted in that space.
In SM#3, I tried to make another light box with slightly illustrative/representational qualities, taking after looks of “neverending oceans”, of late night swims. Since the previous class discussion, I’ve been stuck on the idea of trying to showcase a landscape, so I just had to try it out here.
Review of hanging sketch models
- weirdly nostalgic of tacky early 2000s furniture and IKEA vibes.
- SM#3 especially feels like something you’d find in your pediatrician’s waiting room next to the giant tank of Finding-Nemo-type fish.
- Some simplicity comes off as elegant. Other simplicity comes off as cheap. Mine comes off as cheap.
- Craft looks like it comes from a literal child. Make something someone my age would enjoy lol
11/19 – Class Discussion
Sweet spot between something that’s representational and something that’s abstract.
Make a list of criteria that you don’t want it to be.
Find similarities between them.
Work with scale. Make them smaller.
You wake up from a nightmare. What do you want to see?
I hate making accommodations for designs.
— try to find universal experiences
Rethinking Semantic Differentials (in red):
Next steps:
Julianna mentioned how she wanted to create a stand for her light, which then begs the question, “Why does it have to stand on its own anyways?” Why can’t I make something huggable?
- Make something holdable (in use) and hangable (not in use). Held close to the heart, glows like the heart.
- Problem with the cords and strangulation, but I feel like we are all so used to sleeping so close to technology anyways, we are always “plugged in” to something all the time. So many people sleep with their phone charging on their pillow; it’s not completely uncommon for me to wake up in the morning on top of my phone and some charging cords.
Begin Prototyping
Plan less. Be more abstract. Be more additive. Make something, and keep making it. Create something based on feeling (don’t think about it like representation vs. abstraction). VISCERAL.
I have a new criteria. This one’s important, this one is the most important. What makes me happy? From this point on, I will only continue working with ideas that I look at and feel happiness from. I don’t know why I just realized or decided this, but I want to design something that I – as in me, personally — would actually like to have in my life.
I like: beautiful things, warmth, closeness and intimacy, eyes that smile, gentle purple tones and sunset hues, cloudy blue skies, clear ocean waters, looking up and seeing a neverending mass of stars, walks to nowhere. Feelings of safety, yet infinite-ness.
––How can I incorporate these life elements that I enjoy into a LIGHT?
Thoughts––from Sunday 11/22
Jessica and I went to Blick today to check out different papers. We both wanted something that could hold rounded shape well, and thought of trying to find some sort of cardstock that was moldable with water.
After talking to the workers at Blick, we found that there was no cardstock of the sort (aka probably taskboard). But they talked to us about foam-y paper that could be molded by heat and also different types of paper pulps that acted as molding agents or clays. Ultimately, Jessica and I decided to get some paper clay to experiment with. We both looked up at each other in the store with the same idea in mind: we just wanted to make something circular, like a lightbulb inside of a bulb. Something round like that just sounded so pleasant.
We also found some interesting textured paper downstairs in the Blick. Funny note: earlier that day Ricky also went to Blick but he told us there were no nice papers, only ones with pandas. So when Jessica and I went, I was determined to find the panda paper, but then right next to it found this nice rice-paper-y white paper too that I actually decided to get. When I told Ricky about the paper I actually got, it turned out he actually got the same paper too.
So, why do we just want, so badly, to make something beautiful? I feel like that’s why Jessica and I went as far as to buying such whacky materials like paper clay – we wanted to make something that actually showed the complexity of thought that went into making it, and we wanted to make something that simply looked stunning.
Friday night, I was in the architecture studio with my friend Jaden, and we compared Miro boards of our studio classes. She was making “colonies” for assigned animal species under fully Photoshop rendered Pittsburgh bridges. I thought the work looked incredible; they were just making and doing so much. On the other hand, from first glance, our final Miro boards didn’t look like we were really doing much. But when I showed Jaden our Medium posts, she was almost just as amazed with our work as I was with her’s. I guess the cool part is seeing the process, how we think, and how we reach our conclusions.
Ricky and I actually talked for a bit about these differences between architecture or fine art and design for a bit. (For context of any random person reading my publicly posted diary-esque Medium post, Ricky transferred into our class after one semester as an architecture student). With all of my “art”/work before actually coming to design school, I wanted it to have some sort of purpose. It had to have a “place” in the “real” world (as if there is a fake world), and be something human – is what I would say. But now, for the first time ever I think, I just want to make art that is beautiful, and simply makes life more beautiful.
Architecture and design just have different intents. Architecture work can often only be truly understood and fully appreciated by other artists, while design is meant to be appreciated by all. Architecture critiques big concepts, and design critiques the microdetails.
I kind of lost touch with the assignment, and with the restrictions that come with good design. I forgot about how “good design is simple”. I forgot about conclusions reached on how a good design for this project would be one that relies more on strong construction and taking advantage of the natural material type, than just trying to immediately find different materials that did the job for me. I honestly wanted to make a sculpture, instead of a “lighting engine”; art instead of design. I started thinking about making papercut designs or just fully delving in to representational patterns, before I was reminded that good* design* is universally beautiful and appreciated.
Compared to the cardboard carriers assignment, it was more difficult with the lighting engines to know what was needed to make it “work”. The carrier was to make something that functioned well, while the lighting engine is meant to make something that makes you feel well.
This project is about experience. But experience is very subjective. — Ricky (he wanted to be quoted)
We wanted to find ways to make universally nice experiences. Which reminded me of a thought I’d jotted down before, about Carl Jung’s collective unconsciouses. Is there a way to make designs that were reminders of universally shared experiences? (which lol, my IKEA lamps lowkey do, but in a hideous and possibly traumatic way)
Something that I’ve been struggling with in all my 3D work is translating the dialogue in my mind and the words I write down into something that can be touched and held and tangibly experienced. I looked back at my list of things “I like:” and tried to connect them to things that could actually be created. To reiterate the question: how can I incorporate these things I like into my actual design?
The sense of “infinite-ness” of oceans that never end and walks that lead to nowhere can be seen in patterns that are infinite. Also, in creating patterns, the amount of organic-ness can be controlled through the amount of rhythm.
So, I think I will look into subjects in nature with “infinite” patterns (like seashells!), and a pattern that isn’t perfectly rhythmic (perfectly imperfect). Still trying to work with the idea of something that can be held during sleep, I need to make something that at least looks like it isn’t easily breakable (like seashells!), but is still intricate and delicate in its own way. Something reliable.
There’s something incredibly fun about bringing my nightlight under the covers with me. It feels exactly like what it looks like: a warmth emitting out of you. It feels like something personal, a childhood secret kept to oneself.
Talk with Steve and Stacie
- something that makes your heart beat
- get the general idea/goal down → add visual complexity later
- visual complexity and elements should complement function
- how much we want it to make sense
- uniqueness
- how do i craft?
- context photos
- interactivity
- instinct to make good looking stuff is to make something that looks super complicated. and then you make it simple. don’t start by making it simple.
- this is a product that only exists once
11/28 Ikea Adventure
- how to make something not look cheap: make it not look like paper on top of a lightbulb
- just be really careful with craft
More, More, More
“Nick, do you know how to make a shell?”
choices, choices: cognitive vs.
choosing a petal shape: why do I want something that is able to open and close if i don’t even want it to eventually open and close
able to anticipate form: underlying geometry
Is there a good side and a bad side to things?
soften the harsh lines
Uncertainty of whether I am doing anything right — what does a good process look like? Unsure of how far I really am along the design process.
Understanding paper better -> what is possible and what isn’t possible
What changes are worth it? Was talking to Nick about that today. Flower that blooms during the day, closes during the night
D’arcy Thompson — On Growth and Form
If this were a thing in my house, where would I put it? Is this something I want to have around me? Artifacts eliciting memories.
Interface/transition objects
Let yourself take the time you need. There’s no way around it.
Work with what you have. Make what you have better.
- we tell ourselves stories that we know aren’t true and then phish for affirmation of these stories. we are manipulative people lol
- we think we don’t know anything but we actually know things
- awareness is good. awareness of your process
- isn’t it cool you’ll be alive tomorrow
- it is okay to be different and think differently. what happened? — in how i was raised that i believe thinking differently = thinking the wrong way
- make something that *i* am happy with, which is ultimately the only opinion that matters
Last Chances, Last Changes
I have an idea.
It looks different in the on state vs. the off state. The light acts to highlight certain details. Something magical and therefore beautiful in hidden details → closed flower bulb. The outer leaves do not light up, but they do not need to.
I wanted to make something interactive.
I realized, the interaction isn’t in the light engine itself, the interaction isn’t moving the paper in the lamp around. The interaction is the light itself. The interaction is the CHOICE of turning the light on. IT NEEDS TO LOOK DIFFERENT WHEN ITS ON VS WHEN ITS OFF. YOU TURN IT ON WHEN YOU WANT IT TO LOOK LIKE HOW IT LOOKS WHEN ITS ON. THE INTERACTION IS THE SWITCH.
I’m telling Ricky, when its on I feel it. When its off, I only feel it.
Making a base: don’t want it to look like something I’m afraid to touch
randomness → nothing wrong with intuition, that is what design is.
Making the base and “closed bulb”
I wanted to cover the socket and integrate it into the light. The very inside would be a “closed bulb” shape, with the idea of a bulb closing at night.
While this construction method was somewhat working, it was hard to perfect in terms of craft (a lot of math was involved) and I did not really like how it looked with the light on because the overlapping of the leaves did not appear as organic as I would’ve wanted it to.
I experimented with different patterns the overlapping of paper could create. This reminded me of the earliest phase of experimenting with paper.
I also looked back at my first prototype where many of the leaves more “randomly” overlapped towards the very top. This also made me rethink techniques about the leaf shape. I found that more randomness in leaf shape led to a more organic feeling.
On the topic of randomness though, it wasn’t really completely random. It’s driven by intuition and an informed subconscious. I know how to make this flower like structure because I’ve personally seen a lot of flowers throughout my life. I generally know that the outer petals are larger, and that they swirl and diminish in size as the petals are closer to the core of the flower (like the Golden rule! and that rose image I was looking at!).
I also went back to the technique of scoring the petal to bend it. It didn’t just help with the function of bending petals in interesting and controllable ways, but it also fit with a new goal I had: to create a new and interesting look when on vs. off. When off, the petals looked just like what they looked like; but when on, there was a very subtle detail of the score marks illuminating through the petal. It was cool because it added a level of complexity that I previously hid (as designers do), but it also kind of added an explanation towards how this paper was able to do what it was doing. I also thought it was interesting because the score marks kind of tied to how plants look in real life, with veins running along them.
The veins in plants carry the water and nutrients throughout the leaves; in my light, the “veins” carried the light. Light = life, I guess. Even though light is not alive.
I kept adding petals to it where it naturally made sense, and the version on the very right was the final. Ultimately though, from looking at it more and more, it did have a bit too much chaos. There was an overwhelming amount of detail, which did not aid the context very well.
To solve this, I added petals of tracing paper over the light. This worked really well because it helped diffuse the light even further, and it added even more levels of “secrecy” to the light. There were so many more subtle details now, which I loved. It also added more visual interest in the off vs. on states. I think adding this additional layer then also gives the viewer the chance to want to look closer, and deeper into the light to see all the different inner layers. That’s kind of how flowers work; I wanted people to appreciate and look at my light the same way they would appreciate and look at a beautiful flower.
In conclusion, I am quite pleased with the final product. It’s been a day since I finished it and set it up in my room, and it’s something that I would honestly keep around forever. (In fact, last night, my roommates and I all fell asleep soundly with the light on beside us as it is set up in the photos!) I guess that is the ultimate testament towards the success of the lighting engine: whether it is something I would keep around, specifically in the context of the prompt.
I am feeling content with what I have learned from the project. My biggest frustration was simply not understanding myself as a person; I was always wondering: where am I even getting my ideas from?? I would look at my work and prototypes beside one another and not see this linear process/progress and that would frustrate me so much. But upon reflection, I have learned that my thought process really just isn’t linear, and that’s just who I am as a person I guess. Therefore, my progress won’t always be linear either (also, the concept of “progress” is self-defined/determined lol).
Really looking back it, I am able to make connections between my final and all the ideas I’ve had about it in the past few weeks. This light was genuinely something I thought about during my walks, showers, and sleep. There was such a clutter of thoughts and no organization to it, and that frustrated me.
But now I’m able to see little parts of all my process in the final, from the experimentation with paper to the first prototype (which I literally cried over not understanding where the idea from that even came from — it felt like the idea just fell out of the sky in the moment).
I enjoy my final because I know it is full of things I enjoy: I remembered the elements of crafting and functions of paper I enjoyed and forgot about those I didn’t enjoy. The ones I remembered showed in my final. Earlier on, I listed out things in life I enjoy, from seashells to oceans to flowers, to the concept of blooming to the motion of a heartbeat. I was somehow able to integrate the idea and feeling of all these simple things in life I enjoy into my light. My awareness of this suddenly makes this thing I have created make sense, which makes it something I am happy with. Just knowing this makes it easier for me to fall asleep at night.
Bloopers
