Nathalie's Design Blog

In our Designer’s Voice class, we were recently asked to write a short piece on what work means to us.  I spit this one out pretty quickly so we’ll call it a first draft, but thought it was useful to post for posterity’s sake.  I’ll update as it evolves.

A healthy work life means that I’m focused on something that’s both meaningful to me and beneficial to society.  The nature of the work must align with my ethics and values.  I enjoy working with others more than working alone and often prioritize the people with whom I work over the type of work itself.  I need to dream and ultimately to create.  I love seeing connections in the world and often find myself focused on how to make it better.  Everything I do should have a human aspect.

It’s important to me that I’m continually able to grow as a person through the work that I do.  Often that means education and usually that also means variety.  I cannot do the same thing forever.  To me, adaptation is more self serving than it is a market requirement.  I feel that it’s only through understanding a variety of areas that one is able to find the inspiration to create something new.  I admire depth, but crave breadth.  I find Design to be a unique and fulfilling profession in that it encourages a mix of MacGyver-esque and schizophrenic behavior in the pursuit of creative solutions.

For me, rewarding work is engaging, surprising, meaningful, purposeful, and collaborative.  I care more about those things than I do about financial reward.  I continually seek to surround myself by people who positively challenge me.  The best work environments are the ones in which people laugh a lot.

After writing this, I realized that another important aspect of a job well done is the pride that comes with believing your work is of high quality.  I’ll need to work that into the next revision.  It’s important for me to feel intrinsically proud of what I produce.

In my Art class this quarter, we’ve been given an amazing syllabus of projects and asked to choose a set which we’ll complete this quarter.  One of the options is to create a wooden bowl, whether turned on a lathe, carved, or created through some other means (I’ve heard some people in the past have burned out the inside).  Having become fascinated with the wood lathe from an attempt at a different project in the Fall, I decided to focus on bettering my turning skills.

I’ve heard rumors that turning a bowl isn’t nearly as easy as it sounds, so I decided to start with a test piece.  I bought scrap piece of poplar, cut it up, and glued the pieces together to create a block.

Some seriously clamped wood

Once dry, I rounded out the block on the band saw and circular sander to create an appropriately shaped blank and mounted it in the lathe (don’t worry about the chunk missing at the end… it’ll work itself out).

Wood blank mounted on the lathe

I then began to navigate the set of tools at my disposal to see if I could turn this rounded block into more of a bowl-like shape.  You’ll notice in the picture below that I’m actually using the wrong tool.  It took me a while to start to understand the difference between gouges, scrapers, and the like.  I still feel like I have a lot to learn, but with the help of Richard Raffan‘s timeless wisdom, I’m beginning to get there.

Shaping the outside of the bowl

So far, my test piece has served as a great way to learn about the importance of tool sharpness, the characteristics of wood (poplar’s softness and long grain have led to some interesting results so far), and proper stance for tool stability.  No wonder it takes so much experience to become a true craftsman.  My next plan is to try again with a bit of a harder wood, perhaps teak, to see how it behaves.

Phew, it’s been too long of a break and I have a lot of updating to do!  It’s amazing that we’re only two weeks into the winter quarter and I already feel like I have an overwhelming backlog of fun project stories.  So many, in fact, that I’ll need to catch up on them in short bursts.  I’ll start somewhere and generally forgo chronology in favor of sharing them in the order I find most interesting.  Happy catching up!

First off, say hello to my Entrepreneurial Design for Extreme Affordability class.  Now say hello to it five times fast.  Now never do it again because moving forward, I’ll simply refer to it as “Extreme”.  I find the label both short and appropriate.  I’m sure you will too.

At its core, the class deals with designing low cost solutions for the developing world.  Prior projects have included a $25 incubator for babies in Nepal, more durable mitads in Ethiopia (anyone who has enjoyed injera has benefited from these), and a variety of irrigation and food processing solutions.  This year, we’re lucky enough to be working with partners in India, Cambodia, Indonesia, Myanmar, Ethiopia, and Kenya.  Lots of specifics to come on that in future posts.

To kick off the class and to start to get to know each other during the first week, we were asked to rapidly prototype a solution which would Capture a Monsoon!  “Where would you find a monsoon in Northern California?” you might ask.  Well, we had trouble with that too, so we settled for two sprinkler heads attached to garden hoses.  Our challenge: Armed with $20 (and anything you can find lying around), construct a device which will capture the most “rain water” in a 5 minute period.  The playing field is 20′ x 20′.  You have 3 days.

We started off with a little prototyping... and it worked!

Happy with the results, we created a full size version, put our game faces on, and headed out.

The results on game day were both clever and amusing…

Some were large (this one was ours)

Some were colorful

Some resembled giant utters

And others were full of spirit

In the end, our team didn’t do particularly well, but we had a ton of fun and we learned a lot.  We managed to score the “The Monsoon Project is not the Monsoon Project without a hole being dug in Jim’s Backyard” paper plate award for our valiant efforts.  No backyards, particularly those belonging to professors, were permanently harmed in the making of our device.  It’s possible some grass will take a little time to regrow, though.

Having successfully completed our first design project and having subsequently dried off from the glorious sogginess of the experience, we’ve since set out to shadow the Carpentry staff that keeps Stanford ticking.  Hopefully we’ll be able to use our observations to help improve their workday.  More on that in a future installment…

After an imminent post-working-in-the-shop-for-three-days-straight nap this afternoon, I spent the night drawing.  Our art assignment was to pick an organic form and to draw what we saw, both in actual size and zoomed in.  I chose an orange.  You’d be surprised at the intricacies that lie within a simple fruit.  Natural objects manage to appear simple at first glance, but constantly offer a challenge the more and more you explore them.

Sketches of an orange from my tree

I found the assignment both therapeutic (it’s a lesson in perspective to truly draw what you see rather than allowing your brain to make sense of what you see) and inspirational.   It reminded me of Ross Lovegrove and his way of taking the complex natural structures around us and reducing them to pure beautiful simplicity in his designs.

As my first quarter starts to come to an end, I plan to update this blog with the backposts from the last couple of months.  I’ve barely had enough time to sleep and shower let alone write down my reflections, but it’s been an epic journey so far and I intend to capture it.  Over the next few weeks after some much needed rest, I’ll be posting about some more of this quarters projects and learnings.

Working on the projects we have been over the quarter, I’ve realized time and again how much presentation really matters.  That doesn’t just refer to how articulate a speaker is, but also to their ability to visually, verbally, and experientially tell a story that resonates with their audience.  It’s been neat to explore different modes – from storyboards to physical prototypes to concept art to video – and I’ve definitely become interested in expanding my skills in this area.

It was great to see some of the work teams produced in our last project (it focused on future technology to increase face-to-face social interaction among teens).  I was inspired by the vivid storytelling through video and especially surprised to see how effective it can be to mix lower fidelity images (sketches) with higher fidelity backgrounds or video clips.  It really helped to paint the picture of an experience and not just a product.

I was also inspired by the level of rendering done in one team’s product illustrations.  It reminded me of how I want to focus on bettering my illustration skills during my time here at Stanford.  I’ve begun looking around for classes and resources which would help me to do that, but have realized that our program focuses a bit more on design leadership and process than the actual visual communication details often taught in industrial design programs.  I’m hoping to find a way to learn and gain more practice in quick idea sketching, refined illustration, rendering, and graphic design concepts.  I doubt they’ll become the core of my work, but those types of skills can surely augment any project pitch or presentation.

One thing that isn’t completely clear to me yet is how much of visual communication is observing good work and then practicing in your own and how much is made up of specific skills that can be taught.  I found some great books at Borders and am planning to continually evolve my methods of presentation through my projects, but believe it would also be helpful to have some more formal instruction in the area.  There are some classes offered as part of ID programs at other schools in the Bay Area which I may look into.  I’m sure there are also a lot of great mentors at Stanford who can help me to further my skills.

I suppose all I need now is just a little more time in the day…

In our latest project, we’re focusing on designing new physical computing “paradigms” that encourage social and collaborative communication among middle and high school teenagers.  Through our designs, we hope to envision a society in which technology facilitates more meaningful exchanges with people rather than solitary interactions with keyboards and computer screens.

The first phase of our project has been focused on ethnographic research — really getting into the hearts and minds of our audience.  We’ve hung out at high school football games, conducted phone interviews, and approached groups of teenagers at their favorite hangout spots to start to get a sense for what makes them tick.  Throughout this process, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to truly empathize with a group of people.  I’ve also been mulling over the differences between “design research” and “market research” that we discussed in class.  More specifically, I’ve been comparing the type of research conducted as part of Microsoft’s design process to what we’ve been doing over the last week.

My main insight, though it may seem like common sense, is that it’s nearly impossible to empathize with a group of people based purely on second hand information.  Since Microsoft is a larger company, there’s a set of product planners tasked with conducting research on a given segment of the market to understand their needs and perceptions.  This usually consists of 1:1 interviews as well as quantitative research in the form of large scale surveys.  On my most recent project at Microsoft, we were able to extend this research to international markets which provided a wealth of valuable knowledge.  The problem, however, is that someone else’s insights aren’t nearly as personal as your own.  It’s easy to misunderstand the relative importance of what was learned, to discount observations, and to generally misinterpret the research.  It’s not done on purpose, but without a personal connection to the people for whom you’re designing, you’re not able to mentally put yourself in their shoes.  There’s a world of difference between doing your own research and having someone else tell you about theirs.

Looking back, I’m realizing that I would have benefited from taking more risks in conducting research for my projects at Microsoft.  It’s easy to assume at a large organization that there’s a set way of doing things and that someone else is responsible for a given part of the process.  However, I’m realizing I would have gotten a ton out of stopping people on the street to ask about how they use email, going to internet cafes to observe internet usage, and talking to younger people even though they may be outside of the target audience because in reality they constitute the future.  It may seem ad hoc and informal for a large organization, but it’s undeniably useful.  The personal nature of that kind of research and the associated inspirations are hard to replace with second hand findings.  You may hear the words, but you can’t really internalize the meaning behind them.

Given the structure of typical engineering organizations, I wonder how research can be made more personal and how design inspiration can be defended based on qualitative research methods rather than the quantitative ones employed today.  From my experience, it seems like those types of organizations expect the average trend to drive innovation rather than looking for inspiration in the trendsetters or the idiosyncracies of unique usage.  How do you justify radical innovation based on the mental models of a quantitatively insignificant set of people?  How do you convince a management team of the value of design inspiration?  And how do you facilitate a personal connection between each individual in an organization and their customers?  These aren’t questions I have the answer to yet, but ones I believe are fundamental to the creation of innovative organizations.  I’m sure I’ll continue to ponder them throughout my work here.

Taking a moment to reflect on the classes of the week, one thing has become unmistakeably clear: it is more important to do than to think.  Not that thinking isn’t an important process and one that arguably differentiates us from many of our neighbors on this little blue ball, but in itself thinking isn’t likely to lead to innovation.  The reason is simple: lots of people think.  Lots of people have good ideas, but they’re based solely on experiences they’ve already had.  In order to spark imagination or alter perspective, one must create new experiences in a purposeful fashion which will ultimately lead to an unexpected discovery.  “Fail often to succeed sooner” as David Kelley is often quoted speaks to the heart of that.  By doing (in more scientific circles: “experimenting”), it’s possible to see in more than just the mind’s biased eye what works and what doesn’t.

Of course, the kicker is that “doing” is arduous.  It’s not nearly as glamorous as sitting in a windowed conference room ruminating about “the next big thing”.  It doesn’t solely involve meetings in Palo Alto coffee shops or apples falling from trees.  It’s real honest hard work.

I’m continuing to learn that lesson through each of my classes.  My Visual Language course strives to teach us to perceive the world in a different way – to notice the nuances of color and texture, contrast and values.  Spending several hours on Saturday night painting the heads of hundreds of nails, I can attest to the fact that doing is a lot of work.  The hope is of course that through these experiments, whether manifestations of color theory or prototypes intended to solve a problem, that a new perspective arises.  It’s often said that innovation stems from looking at the same thing and seeing it differently.  Getting to that point involves going through the motions of creating potentially hundreds of prototypes which will never see the light of day.  It means reflecting on each of them to learn what works and what doesn’t so the next set can be thoughtfully refined.  My Human Values course is teaching me that it really is important to go for volume, not only in initial brainstorming but also in concept sketches, physical prototypes, and so on.  This is a place where corporations often cut corners or don’t take the time to schedule appropriately because the fruit of the labor can’t accurately be predicted or measured.

MBA-style leadership often involves sitting in a room, discussing possible options to reach sales targets or address customer complaints, and in some form or another verbally deciding on a plan of action.  An execution schedule is then built based upon that plan and work commences.  The vital flaw of course is that no one knows that plan will actually work because it hasn’t been tried.  It could be argued that it’s based on the acquired experience of those in leadership positions, but that line of reasoning ensures that nothing new will ever be attempted (it hasn’t been discovered yet so how can it be?).  To make the situation worse, schedules often don’t accommodate the eventual iteration necessary to adjust a plan that’s had no more vetting than what’s offered by a conversation around a conference table.

The lesson I’m learning through personal experience is that getting to a great solution or realization takes a lot of work.  It can’t always be accurately planned or measured, but it’s a necessary step in the process.  I’m resigning myself to the fact that it’s time I must put in to create great designs.  The best solution usually won’t be the first or even the 10th one I try.  Each one takes work, although the amount varies depending on the stage in the process; a rapid prototype can speak volumes when it comes to both communicating and vetting out possible ideas.  Final products, crafted to a high level of quality, also take a very large investment of time and resources (in this case, my own), but lead to a result that feels much more polished than if that time hadn’t been put in.  These are all lessons which can be mapped to the world of business as well.  I’ll continue to think about the parallels, but for now, my personal realization is that spending a lot of time on projects comes with the territory.  I’m confident that what I learn and the quality of my designs will reflect the time I put in, and am also confident in the realization that thinking just isn’t enough.

In our Human Values class this week, Arna Ionescu from IDEO walked us through a typical design process from inspiration to rapid prototypes in right around an hour.  Though a bit of a whirlwind tour, it was an excellent way to introduce us to the process we will be using for the quarter as well as to drive the point home that there’s always enough time to put it to use (and in fact it becomes most useful when time is short).  This is something that the folks at IDEO have been evangelizing with clients for some time, but for some reason it still seems like many corporations believe there isn’t enough time to invest in a thoughtful design process.  Hopefully times are changing.

To get us into the right mindspace, we kicked off our session by watching a short video on teen and childhood obesity.  This was a set of interviews done with kids on how they feel about themselves, their eating habits, and how they believe they are perceived given their weight.  Lots of surprising observations came out of this video (parents play a huge role in what kids eat, most kids have solid self confidence despite being overweight, the ones who want to slim down aren’t interested in quick fix methods) which prompted us to brainstorm several “how might we… ?” questions related to addressing the underlying issues.  Choosing the ones we all felt were most interesting to solve, we also brainstormed a plethora of possible solutions.  Smaller teams then set out to build 10 minute prototypes expressing a possible solution.

Collectively brainstorming solutions to the problem of childhood obesity

Christin and I worked to address the problem of better informing kids on where their food comes from.  One of our brainstorming sessions yielded the idea of “having kids design their own school lunches”.  We thought we could make a contest out of this activity such that groups of kids could use all fresh ingredients to design what they thought was the best lunch.  They’d of course have a demo and some instruction to get them started.  In the end, their creations would be ranked by their friends in an effort to show that it really is possible to create great food with wholesome ingredients.  We created a simple paper prototype to express what a possible layout of the room could look like:

Rapid prototype of an environment in which kids design their own school lunches

We had also envisioned a garden outside the school where kids could watch their ingredients grow before incorporating them in their culinary creations.  Though we didn’t have time to include that in our rough prototype, it really was amazing to see how much of a shared understanding could be created with just 10 minutes, some paper, and some tape.  Other groups acted out skits, created storyboards for basic TV shows, and even posed as the Jonas Brothers rocking out.  Fun, creative, and productive.  Who knew?

To accompany our “Human Values in Innovation” class (it’s focused on learning and applying IDEO-style design thinking), we’ve been asked to attend a sketching session once a week.  So far, it’s been a blast, and I can’t wait to really refine my skills in this area.  Being able to quickly sketch out an idea is an important communication tool for designers, and for anyone really.  It conveys a point of view on an idea in a way that language often fails to do.  “A picture is worth a thousand words” as they say.

David Moore doing a quick review of vanishing points

We reviewed some basics like drawing geometries in perspective using one or more vanishing points.  Given the context of our other projects, it really got me thinking about how to sketch concepts in this way.

Drawing cubes in succession toward a vanishing point

We also talked a bit about how shadows can be drawn using vanishing points and how you can effectively deduce the position of an overall light source based on where you want the shadow to fall.  This is all stuff I’ve been free-handing for years, but it’s great to get a more firm grasp of the methods behind showing it realistically.

Depicting a shadow from a light source

And now I’m off to draw pages and pages of lines and ovals to start building the muscle memory to sketch not only well, but quickly.  They say it all comes with practice…