Month: June 2026

After receiving feedback on my worldbuilding project, I realized I needed to go back and get the basics down. What Europa and its oceans look like. I built up an expansive ecosystem, but while the animals have been established, the setting not so much. And I wanted to fix that.

Europa

Europa is the smallest of Jupiter’s moons, also being slightly smaller and less massive than Earth’s Moon. It’s around 670 000 km away from us.

The Surface

Europa’s surface is covered in a think shell of ice, ranging from a few kilometres to as much as 30 km thick. It’s covered in fractures, that ice criss-cross along its surface and allow a few stray rays of sunshine to peak through. It’s very smooth compared to other solid objects in our solar system as it lacks any kind of large-scale geological features like mountains and craters. The surface is a pale grey, with yellowish-reddish-brown regions from sulphur deposits.

The Ocean

Water makes up about 6% of Europa’s total mass. In comparison, Earth is only about 0.02% water. This means the oceans on Europa are much vaster and deeper than on Earth – about 100 km of depth.

The Shallows

On Europa, what we understand as the Shallows is not the same of what we understand on Earth. Given Europa’s distance from the sun and its layers of ice, there is no life directly beneath the surface of the water. It’s too cold. Here, the Shallows are at about 85km – 70km depth. Life here is sparse, mostly, only existing around undersea mountains that spew luke-warm water coming all the way down from the depths.

The Mid-Levels

The Mid-Levels start around 95km-85 km. It’s a near black vastness, stretching out forever. Here is where many of Europa’s large predators hunt given it’s both just warm enough for them to thrive, but also less obscured by geological formations than the deeper levels. This allows them to travel efficiently as they often cross great distances in search of food.

The Abyss

At 100km – 95km the Abyss starts. This region is marked by mountains and cliffs that have formed over millions of years. The hot water rising from the bottom cools down as it drifts upwards, but here is where the sweet spot lies. It’s warm, very comfortably so, and many creatures big and small have settled here, forming a vast and rich ecosystem in total darkness.

The Bottom

The Bottom of Europa is covered in hydrothermal vents; they spew hot water loaded with dissolved gases and minerals, which quickly cools down and forms solid structures around the vent – these are also known as vent chimneys. Depending on the temperature these vents expel white or black “smoke”.

White smokers occur at lower temperatures, they appear white because of the minerals they carry. These are usually silica and barite. Black smokers are hotter and carry iron sulphides for the most part.

Here is where life on Europa first began and continues to thrive.

Sources

Wikipedia. Die freie Enzyklopädie (07.06.2026), s.v. Europa (moon) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Europa_(moon) (zuletzt aufgerufen am 20.06.2025)

As this semester comes to an end, I have started to think more seriously about how I want to use my summer. Usually, summer feels like a break between two busy phases. It is a time to slow down, recover, travel, work, or simply not think too much about university for a while. This year, however, I want to approach it differently. I still want to have some time to rest, but I also want to use the next three months in a focused way. My main goal is to make real progress on my thesis, so that I can enter the fourth semester with more clarity and more space for applications.

The fourth semester already feels like it will be an important phase. There will be pressure to finish everything, but also to think about what comes after the study program. I know that applications, portfolios, interviews, and future plans will take time and energy. Because of that, I do not want to leave the main thesis work until the last possible moment. Instead, I want to use the summer as a preparation phase. My aim is not necessarily to finish everything perfectly, but to build a strong foundation.

Looking back at this semester, I realized that many of the projects and blog posts I worked on already point toward useful lessons for the thesis process. Even when the topics were different, they all had something in common: they taught me how important it is to plan research carefully, stay flexible when things do not work out, and reflect on the methods I use.

One of the clearest examples was the eye tracking test I wanted to do at the poster exhibition Critical Imagination. The original plan was to use an eye tracker to understand how visitors looked at posters. I wanted to find out which parts of the posters attracted attention, what people noticed first, and whether the design guided the viewer in the intended way. In theory, this would have been a strong method, because eye tracking can create visual data such as heat maps and gaze paths.

However, the eye tracker did not work on the day of the exhibition. At first, this felt like a failure, because the main tool I wanted to use was suddenly unavailable. But after reflecting on the situation, I realized that the technical problem was not the only issue. Even if the eye tracker had worked, there were not enough people from the needed target groups at the exhibition. That means the data would probably not have been strong enough anyway.

This was an important lesson for me. A research method can look very professional, but it only works if the whole research setup makes sense. It is not enough to have a good tool. The participants, the context, the question, and the amount of data also need to fit together. This is something I want to remember while working on my thesis. I do not want to choose a method only because it sounds interesting or advanced. I want to choose methods that actually help me answer my research question.

The failed eye tracking test also taught me the value of backup plans. If one method does not work, that does not mean the whole project has to fail. In that blog post, I thought about other ways of studying attention manually. For example, I could observe how long people stand in front of a poster, create a manual attention map with sticky dots, ask visitors what they noticed first, or use short interviews after they viewed the posters. These methods may not produce the same type of data as eye tracking, but they can still offer useful insights.

This is also relevant for my thesis. During the summer, I want to plan my research in a way that includes alternatives. If I decide to do interviews, I need to think about what happens if not enough people are available. If I want to test something with users, I need to consider how to recruit them early enough. If I want to analyze design examples, I need to make sure I have enough material. The more realistic I am now, the less stress I will have later.

Another important finding from this semester came from the interview exercise about analog and digital media consumption. The interview itself went well because the atmosphere was relaxed and the conversation felt natural. Since both sides were interested in the topic, it was easy to talk about personal media habits, such as reading printed materials, using digital platforms, watching videos online, or switching between analog and digital formats.

At the same time, the interview showed me how difficult it can be to balance a natural conversation with a structured research situation. Because the interviewee was a friend, the discussion sometimes became very informal. This made the atmosphere comfortable, but it also made it harder to stay focused on the main questions. I had to guide the conversation without making it feel too strict.

This was another useful lesson for future research. Good interviews need preparation, but they also need openness. If the questions are too rigid, the conversation can feel unnatural and interesting details may get lost. If the conversation is too open, the interview can lose direction. For my thesis, I want to find a good balance between both. I want to prepare clear questions, but also leave enough space for unexpected answers.

The interview also showed me how challenging it is to listen actively, pay attention to the interviewee, and take notes at the same time. This sounds simple before doing it, but during the interview I noticed how much concentration it requires. For longer interviews, recording would probably be helpful, because then I could focus more on the conversation instead of trying to write everything down immediately. This is something I want to include in my thesis planning as well. If I conduct interviews, I should think about consent, recording, transcription, and how I will organize the material afterwards.

The topic of analog and digital media consumption itself also connects to a bigger theme that has followed me throughout the semester: how people interact with media in everyday life. Whether it is a poster in an exhibition, a digital platform, a printed magazine, or an interview about personal habits, media is never only about the object itself. It is also about attention, context, memory, habits, and interpretation.

This is one of the main findings I want to carry into the summer. I have become more aware that design and media are experienced differently depending on the situation. A poster in a gallery is not seen in the same way as a poster on Instagram. A printed text is not read in the same way as a digital article. A person may say they prefer analog media, but still use digital media every day because it is faster and more convenient. These contradictions are interesting because they show that media consumption is not always logical or consistent. It is shaped by routines, emotions, access, time, and social habits.

This semester also taught me that reflection is part of the research process. Not everything has to work perfectly to become useful. Sometimes a failed test, a difficult interview, or an unexpected result can lead to better questions. Before, I may have seen these situations mainly as problems. Now I see them more as material to learn from. This is important for the thesis because I know that not everything will go exactly as planned. There will probably be moments where I feel stuck, where the topic feels too broad, or where I need to change direction. Instead of seeing that as failure, I want to treat it as part of the process.

For the summer, I want to turn these findings into a concrete plan. My first goal is to define my thesis topic more clearly. At the moment, I know the general direction, but I need to narrow it down. A broad topic can be interesting, but it can also become overwhelming. I want to formulate a question that is focused enough to work with, but still open enough to allow meaningful research. This will probably be one of the most important steps at the beginning of the summer.

After that, I want to collect and organize relevant sources. Instead of reading randomly, I want to build a small structure. I want to separate sources into themes, for example media consumption, visual attention, analog and digital practices, design research, and user testing methods. This will help me understand what has already been written and where my own work could fit in. It will also make the writing process easier later, because I will not have to start from zero.

Another goal is to decide on possible research methods. Based on this semester, I know that I should not rely too much on one method only. If my thesis includes interviews, I want to prepare them carefully and think about how many people I need. If I use observation or testing, I want to plan how the data will be collected and what I can realistically analyze. I also want to think about backup options from the beginning. This does not mean planning every detail perfectly, but it means being prepared for possible problems.

I also want to use the summer to start writing earlier than I usually would. Often, writing is treated as the final step after all the research is done. But I think it would help me to write throughout the process. Even short notes, reflections, summaries, or rough chapter drafts can make the thesis feel more manageable. Writing early can also show me what I already understand and where I still need more research.

To make this realistic, I want to divide the summer into phases. The first phase will be orientation and narrowing down the topic. This means reviewing what I already have, looking back at the semester’s findings, and deciding what direction feels strongest. The second phase will focus on reading and research. During this time, I want to collect sources, write summaries, and understand the theoretical background better. The third phase will focus on structure and first writing. By the end of the summer, I would like to have a clearer thesis outline, a first version of the research question, notes on possible methods, and maybe even draft sections of the introduction or theory chapter.

At the same time, I know that the plan has to stay realistic. Summer should not become three months of constant pressure. I need breaks as well, because creative and academic work also needs distance. If I plan too much, I might end up feeling guilty instead of productive. So I want to create a routine that is steady but not extreme. A few focused hours several times a week may be more useful than trying to work all day and losing motivation after two weeks.

The biggest goal is to enter the fourth semester with less uncertainty. I want to be able to focus more on applications, portfolio work, and future opportunities without feeling like my thesis is still completely undefined. Starting now gives me more control. It also gives me more time to make mistakes, change ideas, and improve the work before the final deadline becomes too close.

Looking back, this semester has shown me that research is not only about results. It is also about preparation, flexibility, and reflection. The eye tracking project taught me that a method is only useful when the whole setup supports it. The interview about analog and digital media consumption taught me how important it is to balance structure and openness. Both experiences showed me that people’s attention, habits, and interpretations are complex, and that research needs to be designed carefully to understand them.

That is why this summer feels like an opportunity. It is not just empty time between semesters. It is a chance to take everything I learned and turn it into a clearer direction for my thesis. I want to use these three months to build a foundation that will make the next semester less stressful and more focused.

By the end of the summer, I do not expect everything to be finished. But I want to know where I am going. I want to have a topic that feels clear, a structure that feels possible, and a research plan that is realistic. Most importantly, I want to feel ready for the fourth semester, so that I can focus not only on completing my thesis, but also on preparing for what comes after.

As you know, I originally planned to test eye tracking during the poster exhibition Critical Imagination. The idea was simple: visitors would look at the posters, the eye tracker would record what caught their attention, and afterwards I would compare the data to the design intentions behind the posters. Which elements were seen first? Did people read the text or only scan the visuals? Did the composition guide the viewer, or did important information disappear into the background?

In theory, it would have been a very useful setup. Poster exhibitions are all about visual attention. A poster has only a few seconds to invite someone in, communicate an idea, and make them stay long enough to understand more. Eye tracking seemed like the perfect method because it can show gaze paths, fixations, heat maps, and areas of interest. Instead of only asking people what they remembered, I wanted to see how they actually looked.

But on the day of the exhibition, the eye tracker did not work.

At first, this felt like a failed test. The whole method depended on the device, and without it there was no automatic data, no heat map, and no clean visual proof of attention. However, after the initial frustration, the situation turned out to be more interesting than expected. Even if the eye tracker had worked perfectly, the testing would still have had a major problem: not enough people from the intended target groups attended the exhibition. That means the collected data would probably not have been representative enough to support strong conclusions.

In that sense, the technical failure exposed a bigger methodological issue. A working tool is not the same as a good study. Eye tracking can produce impressive-looking data, but that data only becomes meaningful when the research setup is strong: the right participants, a clear task, a controlled process, and enough observations to compare patterns. Without that, a heat map can look scientific while still saying very little.

This made me rethink what “testing” a poster can actually mean in an exhibition context. A gallery is not a lab. Visitors arrive with different motivations. Some come because they know the designers, some because they are interested in the topic, and some may simply pass through. They talk to each other, move unpredictably, stand at different distances, and may spend more time in front of one poster because a friend is standing there. These behaviours are not errors; they are part of the exhibition experience.

So instead of seeing the failed eye tracking test only as a problem, I started thinking about alternative ways to understand attention manually.

One option would be timing and tracking observation. This method is often used in museum and exhibition research. A researcher discreetly follows or observes a visitor and records where they go, where they stop, and how long they stay. For the poster exhibition, I could have created a simple floor plan of the space and marked each visitor’s route. Every time someone stopped in front of a poster, I could record the approximate dwell time. This would not show exact eye movement, but it would show which posters attracted people enough to physically stop.

Another option would be a manual “attention map.” After viewing the posters, visitors could be asked to mark the area of a poster they noticed first, the part they found most memorable, and the part they found confusing. This could be done with transparent overlays, sticky dots, or printed miniatures of the posters. It would not be as objective as eye tracking, because it depends on memory and interpretation, but it would create a participatory version of a heat map. In some ways, that might even fit the theme Critical Imagination better, because visitors would actively reflect on their own perception.

A third option would be short think-aloud sessions. Instead of silently looking at a poster, participants would be asked to describe what they notice while viewing it: “I see the image first,” “I am trying to understand the headline,” or “I do not know where to look next.” This method is not perfect, because speaking changes the viewing experience. Still, it can reveal confusion, expectations, and design interpretation in a way that eye tracking alone cannot. Eye tracking might show that someone looked at a title for five seconds, but a think-aloud comment can explain whether they were interested, confused, or trying to decode the message.

Video observation could also be useful, as long as it is done ethically and with permission. A camera placed at a distance could record visitor movement, posture, and stopping behaviour. For example, it could show whether people leaned closer to read small text, whether they skipped certain posters, or whether groups discussed specific works. This would not track the eyes, but it would track bodily attention. In a physical exhibition, that kind of attention matters.

The most realistic future approach might be a mixed method. Eye tracking could still be used, but only in a smaller, more controlled session outside the exhibition. Participants from the intended target groups could be invited separately, shown selected posters, and asked to complete a structured viewing task. Then, the exhibition itself could be studied through observation, dwell time, informal interviews, and visitor mapping. Together, these methods would give a fuller picture: eye tracking for precise visual behaviour, observation for real exhibition behaviour, and interviews for interpretation.

The failed test also reminded me that research methods should not become more important than the research question. I wanted to know how people engage with posters. Eye tracking is one way to approach that, but it is not the only way. In fact, the absence of the technology made the human side of the exhibition more visible. Who attends? Who does not attend? Who feels addressed by the posters? Who walks past? Who stops, reads, discusses, or ignores?

Those questions may be harder to measure than gaze points, but they are just as important.

In the end, the eye tracker not working did not completely ruin the project. It changed the direction of the reflection. It showed that testing visual communication is not only about capturing where people look. It is also about understanding the conditions under which looking happens. A poster does not exist in isolation. It exists in a room, in a social situation, in front of real people with different backgrounds, expectations, and levels of attention.

Next time, I would still like to use eye tracking. But I would not rely on it as the only method. I would prepare a backup observation sheet, define target groups more clearly, recruit participants in advance, and combine technical data with manual and qualitative methods. That way, even if the device fails again, the research does not fail with it.

Maybe that is the most useful insight from Critical Imagination: sometimes a broken tool forces a better question.

Sources

Tobii. “Understanding Tobii Pro Lab’s Eye Tracking Metrics.”

Tobii. “User Testing with Eye Tracking Goes Mobile.”

Nielsen Norman Group. “Thinking Aloud: The #1 Usability Tool.”

Nielsen Norman Group. “Usability Testing 101.”

Yalowitz, S. S., & Bronnenkant, K. “Timing and Tracking: Unlocking Visitor Behavior.” Visitor Studies, 2009.

University of Cambridge Museums. “Visitor Observation: Impact Evaluation Resources.”

Yuan, S. “An Eye-Tracking Study of Attention Capture Efficiency in Commercial Poster Design.” Applied Sciences, 2025.

MeasuringU. “Essential Eye-Tracking Visualizations and Metrics.”

On 18 June, our work will be exhibited at Eggenberger Allee 15, as part of the exhibition Critical Imagination. 

The exhibition brings together a variety of projects exploring speculative futures, digital culture, participation, technology, and human experience. Visitors will encounter interactive installations, animated visual systems, experimental media, and immersive environments that challenge traditional ways of experiencing design. 

Unlike conventional exhibitions, many of the works react to their audience. Movement, proximity, curiosity, and interaction become part of the artwork itself. Every visitor contributes to the experience and shapes how the exhibition unfolds. 

For anyone interested in design, media art, technology, or creative experimentation, Critical Imagination offers an opportunity not only to view projects but to actively participate in them. 

What makes this exhibition particularly exciting for me is that it also provides a unique opportunity to continue the research journey that began with previous eye tracking experiments and behavioural analyses. 

From Posters to Interactive Experiences 

Throughout this semester, I have explored different methods of understanding how people engage with visual communication. 

The first workshop focused on analog printing techniques including linocut printing and LEGO pixel printing. Eye tracking analysis revealed how contrast, texture, colour, and composition influence visual attention. 

The second project investigated participatory design through a poster about artificial intelligence. Instead of simply observing visual attention, the project analyzed how children physically interacted with a designed artifact. Unexpectedly, participants respected the visual hierarchy and used negative space as an invitation for collaboration. 

The Sound & Vision project expanded this research even further. Rather than focusing on static visuals, the project explored responsive environments created with TouchDesigner. Movement tracking, behavioural mapping, and interaction logging became new tools for understanding engagement. 

Critical Imagination now combines elements from all three approaches. 

The exhibition contains posters, moving visuals, animations, interactive installations, and immersive environments. As a result, it offers an ideal environment for comparing different forms of audience behaviour. 

Why This Exhibition Matters for Neurodesign Research 

Neurodesign investigates the relationship between design decisions and human perception, cognition, attention, and emotion (Barden and Butler, 2022). 

Traditional design research often focuses on what designers create. 

Neurodesign asks a different question: 

How do people actually experience what designers create? 

This distinction becomes increasingly important when working with immersive and interactive media. 

Unlike a printed poster, an interactive installation evolves continuously through user behaviour. Visitors become active participants rather than passive observers. 

The exhibition therefore presents an opportunity to examine several neurodesign questions simultaneously: 

• What attracts attention first? 

• How long do visitors engage with individual works? 

• Which visual elements create the strongest engagement? 

• How does animation influence viewing behaviour? 

• Does interactivity increase dwell time? 

• How does sound affect visual attention? 

• How do visitors navigate through immersive environments? 

These questions form a valuable foundation for future thesis research. 

Proposed Research Methods 

1. Eye Tracking Analysis 

The most direct continuation of previous projects would be eye tracking. 

A student-accessible solution such as a Tobii Eye Tracker 5 could be used to investigate: 

• First fixation points 

• Visual hierarchy 

• Scan paths 

• Areas of interest 

• Dwell time 

Particular attention could be given to comparing static posters with animated posters. 

A key research question would be: 

Does motion strengthen visual attention or distract from core content? 

2. Movement Heatmaps 

Interactive installations generate behavioural information beyond gaze data. 

Using TouchDesigner and webcam tracking, visitor movement can be translated into heatmaps. 

These visualizations reveal: 

• High engagement zones 

• Dead zones 

• Preferred pathways 

• Areas that encourage interaction 

This method provides insight into spatial behaviour rather than purely visual behaviour. 

3. Dwell Time Mapping 

Dwell time measures how long participants remain near individual artworks. 

Longer viewing times are often associated with increased interest and engagement (Bitgood, 2016). 

Each exhibition piece could be assigned a specific observation zone. 

The resulting data would reveal which works maintain attention most effectively. 

4. Behavioural Observation 

Simple observation remains one of the most effective research tools. 

Questions could include: 

• Do visitors return to specific works? 

• Do they interact alone or collaboratively? 

• Which installations generate conversations? 

• Which works encourage physical participation? 

These observations provide context that quantitative data alone cannot capture. 

5. Emotional Response Documentation 

After engaging with selected works, visitors could answer brief questions regarding: 

• Enjoyment 

• Curiosity 

• Surprise 

• Confusion 

• Memorability 

This creates a connection between measurable behaviour and subjective experience. 

Research Timeline 

Before the Exhibition 

Preparation Phase 

• Define research questions 

• Select artworks for analysis 

• Configure TouchDesigner tracking 

• Prepare observation sheets 

• Test data collection systems 

During Installation 

Pilot Testing 

• Test tracking reliability 

• Identify blind spots 

• Adjust observation zones 

• Verify recording quality 

Exhibition Day 

Data Collection 

• Eye tracking sessions 

• Movement heatmaps 

• Dwell time observations 

• Visitor interviews 

• Behavioural documentation 

After the Exhibition 

Analysis 

• Compare interaction patterns 

• Evaluate visitor pathways 

• Identify successful engagement strategies 

• Connect findings to neurodesign theory 

Potential Thesis Direction 

One of the most interesting outcomes of this research could be the comparison between different levels of audience participation. 

The semester projects already provide three distinct categories: 

Static Design 

Linocut and pixel print posters. 

Measured through: 

• Eye tracking 

• Visual attention 

• Scan paths 

Participatory Design 

AI poster experiment with children. 

Measured through: 

• Physical interaction 

• Contribution patterns 

• Spatial usage 

Interactive Design 

TouchDesigner and Critical Imagination installations. 

Measured through: 

• Movement behaviour 

• Dwell time 

• Interaction frequency 

• Spatial engagement 

Together, these projects create a progression from passive viewing to active participation. 

This could become the foundation of a neurodesign thesis investigating how different forms of interaction influence attention, engagement, and memory. 

Conclusion 

Critical Imagination represents more than an exhibition. 

It offers a living laboratory for studying how people experience contemporary design. 

The previous eye tracking experiments demonstrated how viewers engage with printed media. Participatory poster projects revealed how audiences contribute to visual outcomes. Interactive installations introduced entirely new behavioural dimensions. 

By combining these approaches, Critical Imagination provides an opportunity to investigate the relationship between attention, movement, emotion, and participation within a real exhibition environment. 

For a neurodesign researcher, this makes the exhibition more than a showcase of creative work. 

It becomes an opportunity to understand how design influences human behaviour and how human behaviour, in turn, shapes design. 

References 

Barden, O. and Butler, C. (2022) Neurodesign: Insights from Neuroscience to Design Better Experiences. London: BIS Publishers. 

Bitgood, S. (2016) Attention and Value: Keys to Understanding Museum Visitors. London: Routledge. 

Duchowski, A.T. (2017) Eye Tracking Methodology: Theory and Practice. 3rd ed. Cham: Springer. 

Norman, D. (2013) The Design of Everyday Things. Revised Edition. New York: Basic Books. 

Sanders, E.B.N. and Stappers, P.J. (2008) ‘Co-creation and the New Landscapes of Design’, CoDesign, 4(1), pp. 5–18. 

Manzini, E. (2015) Design, When Everybody Designs: An Introduction to Design for Social Innovation. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Design discussions surrounding artificial intelligence often focus on efficiency, automation, and replacement. Creative industries in particular are frequently confronted with the question of whether AI will eventually replace human designers. 

This poster project emerged as a response to that conversation. 

The central idea was simple: design is not only the production of visual outcomes. It is a process shaped by personal experiences, cultural context, emotion, empathy, and interaction. While artificial intelligence can generate visual results, it cannot genuinely share experiences, form memories, or develop human relationships. Design is ultimately a social practice. 

The poster itself originated from an unexpected discovery. While experimenting with typography in Adobe Illustrator and exploring different type manipulations, a small smiling face emerged accidentally from the forms of the number “3”. Rather than refining the composition into a polished graphic, I became interested in what this simple character represented. The smiley felt approachable, unfinished, and open for interpretation. 

Instead of asking how AI could generate better posters, the project shifted toward a different question: 

Can design become a space for human participation rather than passive consumption? 

To investigate this idea, an A1 poster was printed and presented to children between the ages of 5 and 13. The goal was to observe how they interacted with the composition and whether their behaviour would challenge assumptions about visual hierarchy and poster design. 

Concept and Research Question 

The poster consisted of a large typographic composition dominated by the number “3”. A small smiling face was embedded within the design and accompanied by the phrase: 

“do it with a smile, not AI.” 

The composition intentionally contained large areas of negative space surrounding the main graphic elements. 

Before conducting the experiment, I developed a clear hypothesis. Based on common assumptions about children’s drawing behaviour, I expected participants to draw across the entire poster surface. I assumed that the established visual hierarchy, typography, and spacing would have little influence on where marks were placed. In other words, I expected visual structure to be ignored. The experiment was designed to test whether this assumption was correct. 

Methodology 

Participants 

The study involved children aged between 5 and 13 years. 

Rather than observing the poster individually, participants interacted with it collectively. The poster remained accessible throughout the activity and children were free to add drawings wherever they wanted. 

Materials 

• A1 printed poster 

• Markers and pencils 

• Observation documentation through photography 

• Informal behavioural analysis 

Unlike the previous eye tracking study, the focus here was not on gaze behaviour but on participatory interaction. The children’s drawings effectively became visual traces of attention and decision making. Every mark added to the poster represented a conscious choice about where to engage with the composition. 

Results 

An Unexpected Outcome 

The results contradicted my expectations almost immediately. Rather than drawing over the typography, the smiley face, or the central composition, participants overwhelmingly chose to draw within the empty white areas surrounding the existing design. Across multiple sessions and different age groups, a remarkably consistent pattern emerged. The original poster remained largely untouched. Instead, children appeared to interpret the white spaces as invitations to contribute. The visual hierarchy was not destroyed. It was respected. 

Reading the White Space 

In graphic design, negative space is often understood as an organizational tool that creates balance and clarity (Lidwell, Holden and Butler, 2010). What emerged during this experiment suggests an additional function. The children seemed to perceive the empty areas not as unfinished design but as available territory. Rather than competing with the existing content, they expanded it. Small characters, landscapes, robots, rainbows, animals, and abstract doodles gradually appeared around the typography. The poster transformed into a collaborative environment rather than a static object. Thelarge black typography continued to function as a visual anchor while the surrounding drawings created a growing ecosystem of contributions. 

Participation Instead of Consumption 

One of the most interesting observations was that the children did not treat the poster as something to be consumed. They treated it as something to join. This behaviour aligns with theories of participatory design, which emphasize collaboration, contribution, and shared authorship rather than one directional communication (Sanders and Stappers, 2008). The poster effectively became a conversation. Each child responded not only to the original design but also to drawings added by previous participants. New characters appeared next to existing ones. Storylines emerged. Relationships formed between otherwise unrelated drawings. The final outcome could not have been planned by a single designer. It was collectively authored. 

AI, Authorship, and Human Connection 

This unexpected result became highly relevant to the original topic of artificial intelligence. Current generative AI systems can produce images, layouts, and illustrations at remarkable speed. However, they do not participate in the social processes that give meaning to creative work. The value of this poster was ultimately not the graphic itself. The value emerged through interaction. Children interpreted the design, reacted to it, built upon it, and left visible traces of their own experiences. The poster became a record of collective engagement rather than a finished artifact. This reinforces a key distinction between image generation and design practice. 

Design is not simply about creating visuals. 

Design is about creating relationships. 

Discussion 

The experiment suggests that even young participants demonstrate a sophisticated understanding of visual structure. Contrary to expectations, the children recognized the hierarchy of the composition and chose not to interfere with it. Instead, they identified opportunities for contribution within the negative space. This behaviour transformed the poster from a fixed message into a participatory platform. The findings also highlight the importance of leaving room for interpretation. Designers often focus on what should be added to a composition, but this project demonstrates that what is left empty can be equally important. In this case, the white space became the most active part of the design. 

Conclusion 

What began as a poster about artificial intelligence ultimately became a study about human creativity. 

The experiment revealed that children did not ignore visual hierarchy. They understood it. They worked with it rather than against it. The poster’s most successful feature was not the typography, the slogan, or the smiley face discovered through experimentation in Illustrator. It was the space left open for others. The project demonstrates that meaningful design does not always end when the designer finishes working. Sometimes the most valuable part begins when other people are invited to participate. And perhaps that is precisely where human creativity continues to differ from artificial intelligence. Not in the ability to generate images, but in the ability to create connections. 

References 

Lidwell, W., Holden, K. and Butler, J. (2010) Universal Principles of Design. Beverly, MA: Rockport Publishers. 

Norman, D. (2013) The Design of Everyday Things. Revised and Expanded Edition. New York: Basic Books. 

Sanders, E.B.N. and Stappers, P.J. (2008) ‘Co-creation and the New Landscapes of Design’, CoDesign, 4(1), pp. 5–18. 

Manzini, E. (2015) Design, When Everybody Designs: An Introduction to Design for Social Innovation. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. 

Design discussions surrounding artificial intelligence often focus on efficiency, automation, and replacement. Creative industries in particular are frequently confronted with the question of whether AI will eventually replace human designers. 

This poster project emerged as a response to that conversation. 

The central idea was simple: design is not only the production of visual outcomes. It is a process shaped by personal experiences, cultural context, emotion, empathy, and interaction. While artificial intelligence can generate visual results, it cannot genuinely share experiences, form memories, or develop human relationships. Design is ultimately a social practice. 

The poster itself originated from an unexpected discovery. While experimenting with typography in Adobe Illustrator and exploring different type manipulations, a small smiling face emerged accidentally from the forms of the number “3”. Rather than refining the composition into a polished graphic, I became interested in what this simple character represented. The smiley felt approachable, unfinished, and open for interpretation. 

Instead of asking how AI could generate better posters, the project shifted toward a different question: 

Can design become a space for human participation rather than passive consumption? 

To investigate this idea, an A1 poster was printed and presented to children between the ages of 5 and 13. The goal was to observe how they interacted with the composition and whether their behaviour would challenge assumptions about visual hierarchy and poster design. 

Concept and Research Question 

The poster consisted of a large typographic composition dominated by the number “3”. A small smiling face was embedded within the design and accompanied by the phrase: 

“do it with a smile, not AI.” 

The composition intentionally contained large areas of negative space surrounding the main graphic elements. 

Before conducting the experiment, I developed a clear hypothesis. 

Based on common assumptions about children’s drawing behaviour, I expected participants to draw across the entire poster surface. I assumed that the established visual hierarchy, typography, and spacing would have little influence on where marks were placed. 

In other words, I expected visual structure to be ignored. 

The experiment was designed to test whether this assumption was correct. 

Methodology 

Participants 

The study involved children aged between 5 and 13 years. 

Rather than observing the poster individually, participants interacted with it collectively. The poster remained accessible throughout the activity and children were free to add drawings wherever they wanted. 

Materials 

• A1 printed poster 

• Markers and pencils 

• Observation documentation through photography 

• Informal behavioural analysis 

Unlike the previous eye tracking study, the focus here was not on gaze behaviour but on participatory interaction. 

The children’s drawings effectively became visual traces of attention and decision making. 

Every mark added to the poster represented a conscious choice about where to engage with the composition. 

Results 

An Unexpected Outcome 

The results contradicted my expectations almost immediately. Rather than drawing over the typography, the smiley face, or the central composition, participants overwhelmingly chose to draw within the empty white areas surrounding the existing design. Across multiple sessions and different age groups, a remarkably consistent pattern emerged. The original poster remained largely untouched. Instead, children appeared to interpret the white spaces as invitations to contribute. The visual hierarchy was not destroyed. It was respected. 

Reading the White Space 

In graphic design, negative space is often understood as an organizational tool that creates balance and clarity (Lidwell, Holden and Butler, 2010). What emerged during this experiment suggests an additional function. The children seemed to perceive the empty areas not as unfinished design but as available territory. Rather than competing with the existing content, they expanded it. Small characters, landscapes, robots, rainbows, animals, and abstract doodles gradually appeared around the typography. The poster transformed into a collaborative environment rather than a static object. Thelarge black typography continued to function as a visual anchor while the surrounding drawings created a growing ecosystem of contributions. 

Participation Instead of Consumption 

One of the most interesting observations was that the children did not treat the poster as something to be consumed. They treated it as something to join. This behaviour aligns with theories of participatory design, which emphasize collaboration, contribution, and shared authorship rather than one directional communication (Sanders and Stappers, 2008). The poster effectively became a conversation. Each child responded not only to the original design but also to drawings added by previous participants. New characters appeared next to existing ones. Storylines emerged. Relationships formed between otherwise unrelated drawings. The final outcome could not have been planned by a single designer. It was collectively authored. 

AI, Authorship, and Human Connection 

This unexpected result became highly relevant to the original topic of artificial intelligence. Current generative AI systems can produce images, layouts, and illustrations at remarkable speed. However, they do not participate in the social processes that give meaning to creative work. The value of this poster was ultimately not the graphic itself. The value emerged through interaction. Children interpreted the design, reacted to it, built upon it, and left visible traces of their own experiences. The poster became a record of collective engagement rather than a finished artifact. This reinforces a key distinction between image generation and design practice. Design is not simply about creating visuals. Design is about creating relationships. 

Discussion 

The experiment suggests that even young participants demonstrate a sophisticated understanding of visual structure. Contrary to expectations, the children recognized the hierarchy of the composition and chose not to interfere with it. Instead, they identified opportunities for contribution within the negative space. This behaviour transformed the poster from a fixed message into a participatory platform. The findings also highlight the importance of leaving room for interpretation. Designers often focus on what should be added to a composition, but this project demonstrates that what is left empty can be equally important. In this case, the white space became the most active part of the design. 

Conclusion 

What began as a poster about artificial intelligence ultimately became a study about human creativity. The experiment revealed that children did not ignore visual hierarchy. They understood it. They worked with it rather than against it. The poster’s most successful feature was not the typography, the slogan, or the smiley face discovered through experimentation in Illustrator.  It was the space left open for others. The project demonstrates that meaningful design does not always end when the designer finishes working. Sometimes the most valuable part begins when other people are invited to participate. And perhaps that is precisely where human creativity continues to differ from artificial intelligence. 

Not in the ability to generate images, but in the ability to create connections. 

References 

Lidwell, W., Holden, K. and Butler, J. (2010) Universal Principles of Design. Beverly, MA: Rockport Publishers. 

Norman, D. (2013) The Design of Everyday Things. Revised and Expanded Edition. New York: Basic Books. 

Sanders, E.B.N. and Stappers, P.J. (2008) ‘Co-creation and the New Landscapes of Design’, CoDesign, 4(1), pp. 5–18. 

Manzini, E. (2015) Design, When Everybody Designs: An Introduction to Design for Social Innovation. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. 

The pilot was about one small door story, but the result keeps pointing at something much bigger: pictograms. Now I think I understand why they are everywhere, and the reason is sitting right in my own data.

The drawing in my test won on clarity, on trust, and on ease of reading. People understood it fast and were willing to follow it. A pictogram is just that idea taken to its limit. It is an image reduced until almost nothing is left except the meaning. No specific person, no specific room, no detail to sort through. And that is exactly why it works so well and why it is so popular. When you need someone to understand something in a split second, you do not give them a photograph to study. You give them a reduced sign they can read without thinking.

This is why pictograms run the parts of the world that cannot afford a pause. Exit signs, toilets, road signs, airport gates, the buttons on every device, the warning symbols on a package. All of these need to be understood instantly, often by people who do not share a language, and almost none of them use photographs. A photo of a specific running person pointing to a specific door would be slower and more confusing than the plain figure on a green exit sign. Speed wants reduction. The less there is to read, the faster it reads.

My trust result fits here too. People followed the drawing because it felt deliberate, like a rule rather than a moment. A pictogram feels the same way, only more so. Nobody thinks an exit sign is a photo of one particular escape. They read it as the instruction itself. That sense of “this is telling me what to do” is exactly what an instruction needs, and reduction delivers it better than realism.

But my results also show the other side, and this is the part I find most interesting. The photograph was not worse. It was better at something else. It carried emotion, calm, the feeling of a real person in a real moment. That is the thing a pictogram throws away on purpose. A symbol can tell you to exit, but it cannot make you feel anything about exiting. It is built for speed, not for weight.

So the rule seems to be about what you want from the viewer. If you want them to act fast, you reduce, and you move toward the pictogram. If you want them to pause, to feel something, to stay with the image a moment longer, you add detail back in, and you probably move toward photography. The running figure on the exit sign gets you out of the building. The photograph of a real face on a charity poster is meant to stop you and make you care before you ever read a word.

This is why so much real design uses both at once. A safety leaflet shows a calm photograph to set a tone, then switches to simple icons for the actual steps. An advertisement uses a strong photograph to make you feel something, then a clean logo or symbol to tell you what to do next. The photograph holds you. The pictogram directs you. They are not competing. They are doing two different jobs, the same two jobs that split apart in my little door test.

I did not expect a story about pulling a door to lead here, but it did. The reason pictograms are everywhere is the same reason my drawing won on clarity and trust. Reduction is the fastest way to be understood. And the reason photographs still matter is the same reason mine won on feeling. Detail is how you make someone slow down and care. The next block goes back to the test, the shower and the phone, to see if this same split holds when the story changes.