I’m thrilled to share that I’ve completed my final prototype! The journey wasn’t without its challenges, especially when connecting my laptop to the projector, but I managed to get everything up and running in the end.

For this prototype, I utilized Zig Sim, Max and Resolume Arena to create an interactive layer. The key feature is that the projection changes color based on the movement of the projector. When you move the projector, the image shifts from full color to black and white, emphasizing the theme of perspective.

My aim was to not only enhances the visual experience but also invites viewers to interact with the projection in a unique way.

I won’t lie, I wasn’t sure if I could implement what I had created in my head. However I’m even more excited to see how this concept evolves.

I finally got a mini beamer and tested it for the first time. Until now, I had been working mainly with candlelight and flashlights to project my cut-out patterns, but having a proper projector opened up an entirely new range of possibilities.

The test went surprisingly well. The beamer worked smoothly, and I was able to project both my digital Illustrator pattern and the physical stencils I had created. What struck me immediately was how powerful the combination of the two approaches can be. The crispness of the digital projection layered with the soft, imperfect shadows from the cut-out patterns created a unique visual depth. At times the two aligned to reinforce one another, while in other moments they clashed, resulting in distortions and unexpected visual tensions.

Seeing the religious symbols I had cropped, resized, and transformed behave in this hybrid space was fascinating. Some appeared monumental when enlarged across the cube’s surface, while others dissolved almost completely into abstraction. This play between clarity and fragmentation ties directly back to my concept of questioning authority and representation in the visual language of the Church.

Overall, this first experiment confirmed that working with both analog and digital projection is a promising direction. The interaction of light, shadow, and symbol not only adds complexity but also reinforces the idea that meaning is never fixed—it shifts depending on context, scale, and perspective.

My next step will be to bring in ZIG SIM to explore the interactive dimension. By integrating sensor-based input, I want to see how projection can dynamically respond to movement or touch. The goal is to eventually merge all three elements—the beamer, the stencil projections, and interactivity—into one cohesive experiment.

In my latest step, I started to look more closely at the symbols I associate with the Church and Christianity. I didn’t want to only rely on my personal impressions, so I also did some research on Christian iconography. Very quickly, I came across recurring motifs: the cross, a particular style of fish representation, the Alpha and Omega, the dove, and, of course, the candle. These are all powerful, recognizable elements that carry centuries of meaning and interpretation.

I decided to collect these symbols and transform them into a pattern in Illustrator. Instead of keeping them whole and perfectly visible, I chose to crop them in different ways. This meant that some parts of the pattern are cut off, others are enlarged, and some are reduced to fragments. My idea behind this was to create a visual language where not everything is always visible in its entirety. Sometimes the symbols appear distorted, sometimes they seem larger or smaller than expected. This connects to my concept of questioning clarity and authority in religious representation—how symbols are never neutral, but always shaped by context and perception.

While working with the pattern, I also experimented with its size. At first, the motifs were too large, which limited the effect I was aiming for. By reducing them, I was able to create a denser composition that worked better both visually and conceptually.

After finishing the pattern, I cut it out and began experimenting by projecting it onto my cardboard cube. I was curious to see how the cropped symbols would behave on a three-dimensional surface, and what kinds of distortions or new combinations would emerge as the light wrapped around the edges of the cube. Already, the results were interesting: the fragments became more abstract, sometimes unrecognizable, and at other times they gained a new intensity by being enlarged or stretched.

The next step will be to introduce another layer to this experiment. I decided to get a mini-beamer in order to project not just with candlelight or flashlight, but also digitally. This way, I can explore the combination of analog cut-out patterns with digital projections. For example, I could project the Illustrator pattern directly, or use an image, and layer that with the shadows created by the physical stencil. I am especially curious to see how the two techniques interact—whether they will reinforce each other or create unexpected contradictions.

It is amazing to me personally that this talk was almost entirely about introducing one of the most underrated coding language in data viz, D3.js, which is a lang that should be a staple in every team that wants to create bespoke charts and design beautiful yet functional dashboards from scratch and proudly enough my master’s thesis main topic is about a SaaS that has a dashboard that was created entirely by the unpopular D3.js.
I was involved in designing all the components needed for the dashboard which is called “Steering” and also in the appropriate research to find out how to develop those components on a web app level which is was done later by a fellow full stack developer.

One of the main reflections that I took from this talk is the fact that search UX patterns are often overlooked and misused, even in very important websites like governmental
websites or e-commerce web shops you will struggle to find what you’re looking for and the speaker emphasized something that is really important in fixing this issue which is that searching, filtering and sorting should be treated as one UX pattern both on a design and development level.

Also the notion of selective scanning which is a mental behavior that users use intentially and unintentially to scan interfaces for information relevant to them which highlights the importance of using visual hierarchy along with real usability testing to determine the right UI patterns.

During the semester, I have been in many conversations with my colleagues about our projects and thesis ideas. These exchanges are always inspiring because they reveal how different our approaches are, and at the same time, they remind me that we all struggle with similar questions: Which topic really fascinates us? What feels relevant enough to dedicate months of research and experimentation to? And how do we make sure we do not just follow a trend but instead choose something that we personally connect with?

During one specific talk in the bitki cafe, we talked about churches. Not the institution but the building itself and how the atmosphere they create fascinates people no matter if they are religious or not. Whenever I enter a church building, I am struck by its dual nature. On the one hand, churches are impressive architectural masterpieces: the high ceilings, the stained-glass windows, the play of light and shadow. On the other hand, there is also something heavy and almost intimidating about them — a reminder of history, power, and traditions that do not always align with the values of today’s society.

This tension between admiration and critique made me rethink my thesis topic. I had initially focused on risk communication, a subject that is relevant and important, especially in the face of climate change and natural disasters. But at some point, I realized that while I find risk communication meaningful, it doesn’t excite me on a personal, creative level in the same way. Choosing a thesis topic is a long journey, and as one colleague reminded me: it has to be something you truly enjoy working on, because you will spend a lot of time with it. That advice helped me to accept that it was okay to let go of my old idea and embrace a new one that feels closer to my interests and creative practice.

So here I am now, beginning a new path: exploring the church and its role in contemporary society from a critical perspective. I want to ask questions like: Is the Catholic Church still a relevant institution? Why are so many people leaving it, especially in Europe? What does the symbolism of church spaces communicate, both intentionally and unintentionally? And how can design, especially projection mapping, help to visualize these tensions, contradictions, and maybe even open new ways of reflecting on the subject?

To approach this big and somewhat abstract topic, I decided to start small. My first prototype will be a very simple experiment with light and symbolism: placing an object in front of a candle and projecting onto it. I want to see how the interplay between shadow, light, and projection can change meaning. For example, I will experiment with different setups — using a small candle, a large candle, and two candles side by side. These small variations can already create very different moods. A single, small candle may evoke fragility or intimacy, while a large candle can symbolize power and authority. Two candles could suggest dialogue, duality, or conflict.

The candle is, of course, a strong religious symbol on its own. It carries connotations of prayer, remembrance, mourning, but also of hope and celebration. By using it as the basis of my prototype, I am starting with something that is minimal but at the same time culturally loaded with meaning. My goal is to explore how visual projection can either reinforce these traditional associations or disrupt them — for example, by projecting unexpected images or patterns onto the flame or the surrounding space.

The chosen random Object:

One small candle:

One bigger candle:

Two light sources:

Projection mapping can quickly become technically complex, involving software, 3D modeling, and large-scale surfaces. But I want to remind myself that the foundation is always the relationship between light, object, and viewer. With a candle and a wall, I already have a stage to experiment on, and from there I can gradually build toward more advanced prototypes.

I also see this as a metaphor for my thesis journey: starting small, with something personal and symbolic, and then slowly expanding it into a larger critical exploration. The candle experiment may not answer my big research questions yet, but it sets the tone for how I want to work — engaging with symbols, questioning traditions, and using projection mapping as a tool not just to decorate but to provoke thought.

Following this, I plan to continue developing this idea, possibly by testing projections on different surfaces or even architectural miniatures that resemble parts of a church.

For now I am happy to have found a new direction that excites me. Talking with my colleagues helped me realize that a thesis topic doesn’t just need to be “important” in an abstract sense — it needs to feel important to me. And for me, exploring the role of the church through the lens of projection mapping feels like the right path.

We had a speed dating event in class, where everyone had to quickly present their prototypes to others. The idea was to share concepts in short conversations, get immediate reactions, and see how our ideas land when explained to someone new. On paper, this format sounded exciting — a chance to practice communication, to sharpen my ideas, and to get outside perspectives. In reality, it turned out to be a bit of a wake-up call for me.

In my brainstorming-phase I came up with three different prototype ideas connected to the RiskLIM project:

1. An Interactive Risk Map, developed as a very simple low-fidelity digital prototype, where users could theoretically click on different regions to see hazard levels.
2. A Gamified Avalanche Simulation, which I imagined as a paper prototype or even a very basic web app. The idea here was to make avalanche scenarios more tangible and playful, so that people could experiment and learn.
3. A Minimalist Data Visualization of an avalanche warning system, which I actually managed to realize. The concept was to strip the warning message down to its essentials and communicate information in the clearest, simplest possible form.

I decided to try make prototypes of the interactive map and the data visualization.

On the surface, these sound like solid starting points. But the truth is, I never really felt comfortable with them. Already while brainstorming, I was struggling. The ideas felt forced, as if I was trying to push myself into a framework that doesn’t quite fit me. When I finally built them, the process was just as frustrating. None of the prototypes felt natural, and I couldn’t shake the sense that I was circling around a topic that doesn’t fully resonate with me.

The speed dating format only amplified that feeling. Explaining my prototypes to someone else, I noticed how hesitant I was in my own words. My conversation partner — and this was the most telling part — also didn’t really understand the RiskLIM project. And at that moment, I realized: maybe I don’t understand it deeply enough either. If I can’t explain it in a clear, simple way through my prototypes, then maybe I’m missing the essence of what the project is really about.

That was a difficult realization. There’s a kind of despair that comes with working hard on something and still feeling like you’re not moving forward. After the event, I had to admit to myself that I’m back at the beginning again, standing at zero. That’s not an easy place to be, especially when you want to make progress and see results.

But after sitting with that frustration for a while, I started to think differently. Maybe being “back at zero” isn’t necessarily a failure. Maybe it’s an invitation to rethink. The fact that my prototypes didn’t quite land might just mean I need to dig deeper into the project, or maybe even allow myself to shift direction to something that connects more strongly with my own interests.

For now, what I take away from this exercise is that communication is just as important as the design itself. If I can’t explain what my prototype does, then maybe the design isn’t working — or maybe the foundation of my concept isn’t strong enough yet. Either way, the speed dating event forced me to confront that gap. And as uncomfortable as that was, it might be the most valuable lesson of all.

So yes, I feel like I’m starting from scratch again. But maybe that’s okay. Sometimes you need to break things down before you can build them up stronger.