01. BFA GRAPHIC DESIGN THESIS PROJECT:
Materializing Digital Playlists into Tangible Narratives
THESIS PROJ: 2025
Page from my research book
Research Question: How does the transformation of curated digital playlists into physical artifacts expand our theoretical understanding of music consumption and curation, particularly in relation to material culture, sensory engagement, and spacial experience in a digital first world, deepening personal connection and nostalgia for generations that grew up in the rapidly increasing age of technology?
This project explores the intersection of music curation, material culture, and design by transforming my digital playlists into tangible artifacts like vinyl, mixtapes, printed design books. In a time when music consumption is driven by streaming platforms (which I use everyday) and passive listening, I aim to reclaim the art of intentional curation- where selection, arrangement, and physicality play a role in how we experience sound. Though the medium of music does not depend on visuals for any extra insight nor does it need to be spoken for, the artwork furthers ones story or narrative, enriching audiences auditory experiences. Through research, interviews with local DJs, music curators, graphic designers, and personal experimentation, I’ve examined how physical media fosters deeper emotional and sensory connections to music. My design decisions reflect this idea by emphasizing tactility, nostalgia, and the ritual of music consumption, ultimately questioning how the digital and physical can coexist to enhance the way we engage with sound.
This project explores the intersection of music curation, material culture, and design by transforming my digital playlists into tangible artifacts like vinyl, mixtapes, printed design books. In a time when music consumption is driven by streaming platforms (which I use everyday) and passive listening, I aim to reclaim the art of intentional curation- where selection, arrangement, and physicality play a role in how we experience sound. Though the medium of music does not depend on visuals for any extra insight nor does it need to be spoken for, the artwork furthers ones story or narrative, enriching audiences auditory experiences. Through research, interviews with local DJs, music curators, graphic designers, and personal experimentation, I’ve examined how physical media fosters deeper emotional and sensory connections to music. My design decisions reflect this idea by emphasizing tactility, nostalgia, and the ritual of music consumption, ultimately questioning how the digital and physical can coexist to enhance the way we engage with sound.
The research supports the value of tangible design artifacts in renewing listeners with the complex multi sensory dimensions of music, suggesting that such practices not only enhance personal connection and understanding but also contribute to a more holistic understanding of music's role in contemporary culture.
Playlist #1: DiscWyatt
This playlist invites you into an in-between space, a realm of disquiet, discomfort, and ambiguity. These songs sit in the liminal zone between fear and fascination, where you’re not quite scared, but fully immersed and curious. There’s beauty in that tension. Velvet softens the harshness of disquiet, giving texture and complexity to the experience. It’s not about what’s right or wrong, good or bad. It’s about embracing the gray areas and recognizing wonder in the unknown.
DiscWyatt is the ghost of disquiet, a sleep paralysis demon turned DJ who throws liminal house parties in your dreams. He’s creepy, yes, but also charismatic and strangely comforting. The character was inspired by my vivid and surreal dreams: the kind that are unsettling but captivating, where the strange becomes strangely fun.
I designed the visuals to match this eerie yet inviting mood. When you open the booklet, you’re met with an invitation into the in-between: an introduction to the weird journey ahead. You’re then introduced to DiscWyatt himself.
The next section narrates the setting of this liminal party in descriptive language. The middle spread features the full tracklist, each song paired with original photography and written reflections. These blurbs explore how each track fits into the dream logic of this realm, how they evoke surreal settings, strange emotions, or personal interpretations.
The following pages transition you out of the dream. The party ends, and it’s morning again. Finally, the last page includes a parting note from DiscWyatt, thanking you for spending time in the twilight zone between sleeping and waking. For embracing the gray.
DiscWyatt is the ghost of disquiet, a sleep paralysis demon turned DJ who throws liminal house parties in your dreams. He’s creepy, yes, but also charismatic and strangely comforting. The character was inspired by my vivid and surreal dreams: the kind that are unsettling but captivating, where the strange becomes strangely fun.
I designed the visuals to match this eerie yet inviting mood. When you open the booklet, you’re met with an invitation into the in-between: an introduction to the weird journey ahead. You’re then introduced to DiscWyatt himself.
The next section narrates the setting of this liminal party in descriptive language. The middle spread features the full tracklist, each song paired with original photography and written reflections. These blurbs explore how each track fits into the dream logic of this realm, how they evoke surreal settings, strange emotions, or personal interpretations.
The following pages transition you out of the dream. The party ends, and it’s morning again. Finally, the last page includes a parting note from DiscWyatt, thanking you for spending time in the twilight zone between sleeping and waking. For embracing the gray.
Playlist #2: Downy Meltdown at the Cosmic Motel
These songs feel like having a soft, elegant meltdown. A cry, a sigh, and maybe even a wink at the end. They're groovy, retro, and a little bit lonely.
There's a playfulness to the sadness, like dancing through heartbreak. When I listened to this playlist, I kept imagining a motel floating in space. A cozy, offbeat stopover for intergalactic travelers who need a break from the weight of existence. It's a place to process your emotions without judgment, even the ridiculous ones that still manage to feel profound.
The emotional arc of the playlist shifts from heartbreak to existential fatigue, from yearning to anti-capitalist rebellion, all with a sense of humor. These tracks poke fun at the melodrama of feeling too much while also honoring it.
When you open the liner notes, you are welcomed by the motel concierge, who gently encourages you to sit with whatever feeling you've brought with you, or maybe just let go and enjoy. The next section is the Guest Directory, a track-by-track breakdown where each song is presented as a motel amenity or service, based on its mood, lyrics, and sound.
Following that, you'll find Guest Testimonials, a series of playful and bizarre reviews left by fictional guests who have stayed at the Cosmic Motel. They are whimsical, dramatic, and just as emotionally scattered as the playlist itself.
So check in, get comfortable, and enjoy your stay in this orbiting haven for emotional turbulence and starlit escapism.
There's a playfulness to the sadness, like dancing through heartbreak. When I listened to this playlist, I kept imagining a motel floating in space. A cozy, offbeat stopover for intergalactic travelers who need a break from the weight of existence. It's a place to process your emotions without judgment, even the ridiculous ones that still manage to feel profound.
The emotional arc of the playlist shifts from heartbreak to existential fatigue, from yearning to anti-capitalist rebellion, all with a sense of humor. These tracks poke fun at the melodrama of feeling too much while also honoring it.
When you open the liner notes, you are welcomed by the motel concierge, who gently encourages you to sit with whatever feeling you've brought with you, or maybe just let go and enjoy. The next section is the Guest Directory, a track-by-track breakdown where each song is presented as a motel amenity or service, based on its mood, lyrics, and sound.
Following that, you'll find Guest Testimonials, a series of playful and bizarre reviews left by fictional guests who have stayed at the Cosmic Motel. They are whimsical, dramatic, and just as emotionally scattered as the playlist itself.
So check in, get comfortable, and enjoy your stay in this orbiting haven for emotional turbulence and starlit escapism.
Playlist #3: MERPEach track in this playlist captures a fragment of a young and complicated love story. It’s a timeline of learning, unlearning, miscommunication, and emotional growing pains told from my perspective. Human relationships are already messy, and when you start intertwining yourself with someone else, especially at a young age, it gets even more tangled. This playlist is my attempt at saying the things I’ve never quite been able to put into words.
Which is exactly why it’s titled MERP. Merp is what you say when you don’t know what to say, an awkward shrug in word form. It’s not sad, not happy, not angry. It’s just... merp. And that perfectly encapsulates the emotional fog that comes with young love: full of things felt deeply, but hard to articulate.
Visually, the design pulls from varsity letterman aesthetics (patches, bold type, and textured materials) because my most formative experiences with love happened during high school and college. And honestly, what’s young love without a little bit of emotional gamesmanship?
The notes go track by track, each accompanied by a short blurb interpreting how one person in the relationship might have felt. These reflections are equal parts introspective and judgmental, because love is rarely clean or fair.
The visual language features bold, almost primary colors, echoing the feeling of a first love (bright, simple, and intense). The accompanying photos are snapshots of my college years, adding another layer of personal storytelling to the mix. Together, the music, writing, and design form a bittersweet time capsule of emotional growth, confusion, and all the things I didn't know how to say. QR to Playlist 3
Which is exactly why it’s titled MERP. Merp is what you say when you don’t know what to say, an awkward shrug in word form. It’s not sad, not happy, not angry. It’s just... merp. And that perfectly encapsulates the emotional fog that comes with young love: full of things felt deeply, but hard to articulate.
Visually, the design pulls from varsity letterman aesthetics (patches, bold type, and textured materials) because my most formative experiences with love happened during high school and college. And honestly, what’s young love without a little bit of emotional gamesmanship?
The notes go track by track, each accompanied by a short blurb interpreting how one person in the relationship might have felt. These reflections are equal parts introspective and judgmental, because love is rarely clean or fair.
The visual language features bold, almost primary colors, echoing the feeling of a first love (bright, simple, and intense). The accompanying photos are snapshots of my college years, adding another layer of personal storytelling to the mix. Together, the music, writing, and design form a bittersweet time capsule of emotional growth, confusion, and all the things I didn't know how to say.
All content made using Adobe InDesign, Adobe Illustrator, Adobe Photoshop, Procreate, and Fuji Film Camera.