Ruihong Jiang

Being recognized in the MUSE Design Awards is both humbling and affirming. It tells me that the values I pour into my work—cohesiveness, symbolism, empathy—are not just personal pursuits, but something others also find meaningful. It’s a reminder that design has the power to resonate beyond myself, and that what I create can hold value in a larger conversation.

This recognition has definitely made me more confident. It encouraged me to pause and reflect on my true strengths and how I can continue to grow in my career. It has also opened unexpected doors—most recently, it led to two projects centered around children, which feel especially meaningful as they allow me to design with imagination, empathy, and a sense of future impact.

Experimentation is essential to my process—it’s the raw material of creativity. As designers, we observe, test, and gather insights from each attempt, making every prototype sharper and every idea more refined. To me, experimentation isn’t a single step but a daily habit—a framework that broadens our vision and helps us uncover patterns that can be translated into meaningful solutions for people. For example, I’m constantly exploring ways to optimize my workflow. Recently, I experimented with image generation tools and realized that while they can produce compelling atmospheres, they often lack precision in product details. To address this, I developed a hybrid workflow: using SketchUp to create accurate wireframes of the product, then rendering them through AI tools to achieve realistic lighting and mood. This balance of precision and exploration is what keeps my design process alive.

I draw inspiration from a wide range of interests—psychology, sociology, music, even chemistry. One of the most unexpected sources came during an illustration project where I created a character for each element in the periodic table, weaving in their common uses and symbolic traits. It became a way to turn scientific facts into visual storytelling. I believe cross-disciplinary inspiration is where creativity truly flourishes. As Bing Xu once said, “art comes from outside of art.” For me, exploring other fields and bringing their language back into design is what keeps my work fresh and full of possibility.

One thing I wish more people understood is that the design process isn’t a straight line—it’s playful, iterative, and deeply collaborative. For me, it’s important to keep the process open and inclusive, creating space where everyone can contribute and be heard. Ideas shouldn’t be judged too quickly; instead, they need time to breathe before being tested through data and user research. That balance of openness and reflection is what turns scattered thoughts into cohesive solutions.

I’ve learned that many clients aren’t always sure how to express what they’re looking for—they can feel it but may not have the words to describe it. That’s why education and alignment are essential. Before starting any design work, I make sure we build a shared understanding of goals, language, and expectations. From there, I usually present two or three directions, each with its strengths, trade-offs, and potential risks. By walking clients through the pros and cons, they feel more involved in the decision-making process, while I can stay true to my design thinking and ensure their needs are met. I believe a project succeeds only when both the client and I are confident in the direction we choose together.

One of the main challenges we faced was aligning on the visual style of the app. My team and I had different perspectives, and it took several rounds of discussion to find common ground. To support my point of view, I drew inspiration from successful mobile games, showing how 3D and colorful interfaces naturally capture children’s attention. I also referenced psychological research showing that people are more drawn to detailed objects—and that children, in particular, respond strongly to saturated colors. In the end, my proposal was adopted, which also meant taking on additional workload to ensure it was executed properly. While it was demanding, the experience taught me the value of balancing evidence with intuition and taking full responsibility once a vision is set in motion.

When I hit a creative block, I recharge by reconnecting with the natural and the unexpected. I step outside to take in new views, textures, and sounds. Sometimes that means sketching outdoors, hiking, or traveling; other times, it’s as simple as reading books outside my field, playing the ukulele, or striking up conversations with people I don’t usually talk to. Each of these moments offers a fresh perspective—reminding me that creativity often returns when we let the world surprise us.

Honesty is a core value for me, and I try to express it in my work by ensuring every design decision has a clear purpose—never just for decoration or form alone. Authenticity means that design should make sense both functionally and emotionally. I also strive to design with empathy, imagining myself in the user’s place and almost “holding their hand” as they navigate a product or illustration. Lastly, I value cohesiveness—everything should feel consistent and in character, as if all the elements belong to the same world. That sense of integrity is what gives design its lasting resonance.

My advice would be: observe and understand your users deeply. Design doesn’t exist in isolation—it grows from real people and real contexts. Gather as much insight as you can from everyday life: go out, explore, and stay curious. Every experience you collect becomes part of your mental library. One day, when you’re faced with a design decision, you’ll find that wealth of lived moments quietly guiding your choices in unexpected ways.

I would love to collaborate with Alphonse Mucha. While he wasn’t a “designer” in the contemporary sense, his work was groundbreaking in how it blended fine art, ornamentation, and everyday life. I imagine taking his flowing, symbolic style and expanding it into an immersive world—one where people could step inside his visual language and experience it fully. I’d also love to create merchandise inspired by his aesthetic, bringing that sense of beauty and unity into objects people can carry with them.

One question I wish people would ask is: “What connects all your work beneath the surface?” My answer would be: cohesiveness. No matter the medium—illustration, brand system, or product interface—I care deeply about making everything feel unified and intentional. I see design as a language where every element belongs to the same story. That sense of coherence is what gives my work its identity and what I hope people feel when they experience it.