Before this module I did not really understand what it means to work with material in a serious way. I knew software, screens, and flat layouts. If something felt wrong I could just undo it and pretend it never happened. With this project that was not possible. Once the wood was cut or painted it stayed that way. At the beginning this made me feel very nervous and careful in a way that almost blocked me. I was scared that every mistake would become permanent proof that I did not know what I was doing.
As I kept working something slowly changed. I started to see that the point was not to be perfect on the first try. The point was to let each version teach me something real. A burned edge showed me that the power was too high. A piece that snapped reminded me that some lines were too thin. An unbalanced composition told me that the depth was still too flat. Instead of seeing these as failures I tried to treat them as conversations with the material. The wood was not just a surface. It was reacting to my decisions and giving me honest feedback every time.
Working with the Forbidden City made the process feel even heavier and more meaningful. This was not just any map. It carried history, power, violence, beauty, and my own mixed feelings about where I come from and where I live now. I was constantly asking myself if I was being respectful enough and truthful enough. Sometimes I felt very small in front of the subject. Who am I to cut the Forbidden City into neat layers and colors. That question stayed with me through the project and pushed me to slow down and think about every choice.
One of the biggest things I learned is that depth is not only a visual effect. It is also emotional. Adding more layers of wood made the piece physically thicker but it also made the space feel more trapped and heavy which matched what I wanted to say about the palace as a kind of beautiful prison. When I finally found a stacking order that felt right I had a quiet moment of relief. It felt like the object was finally speaking clearly instead of fighting against me.
If I look back at the early versions now they feel clumsy and flat. At the time they already felt like so much work and I remember being tired and frustrated. But now I am glad I did not stop there. This project taught me that my first idea is almost never deep enough. I need time, mistakes, and reworking to find the real voice of a piece. It is uncomfortable and slow but it is also the part that makes me grow.
Going forward I want to carry this experience into my future design practice. I want to stay more open to trying again instead of protecting the first version. I want to listen more carefully to the material and the subject instead of only listening to my own plan. Most of all I want to keep allowing my personal history to be part of my work. This project showed me that when I connect technique with something I truly care about the process becomes harder but also much more honest and worth doing.
This final piece is a multi layered laser cut of the Forbidden City built from engraved and fully cut wood panels. I wanted the object to feel like a physical journey through space and history. At the front is a tall frame shaped from the outline of the moat. I painted it yellow to show that the moat is not water in this story. It is a wall. It is the boundary that kept everyone inside the palace unable to leave.
In front of this frame I placed a flat blue vase. It does not exist in the real Forbidden City but it carries meaning for me. I gave the vase the blue that should belong to the moat. It holds the “water” that has been taken away from the outside. The vase is fragile and personal and it shows a kind of hidden softness that people inside the palace were never allowed to show. For me this vase is a metaphor for the emotional life of the people who lived in a space built for power.
Behind the frame sits the engraved map of the entire palace complex. I kept only the courtyards, walls, and spatial layout so it reads like an imprint or a memory of the city. On top of this map I placed the Hall of Supreme Harmony and the Palace of Heavenly Purity. These two buildings sit on the central axis and represent ceremony and daily power. I cut them as separate pieces and doubled their thickness so they rise above everything around them. They cast shadows and act almost like small islands inside a larger world.
The front gate stands between the map and the moat frame. I kept it thin and linear so it creates a sense of threshold without blocking the depth behind it. All of these layers stack together to form a composition with a strong foreground, midground, and background. It looks like a small diorama at first glance but the mood is heavier. The thickness of the boards makes the space feel deep and closed the way the real palace feels closed in history.
This design expresses the Forbidden City as a place of power and beauty but also as a place of isolation. The people who lived inside it, from concubines to officials to emperors, were surrounded by rituals, rules, and expectations. The deeper I worked on this piece the more it felt like carving a beautifully built prison. The whole structure becomes a frame inside a frame. It is elegant but difficult. It is grand but narrow. It holds stories that are both proud and painful. This is the feeling I wanted to put into the final object.
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