Her work explores putting porous boundaries between things at various scales and materiality. She is currently exploring sticky and stinky themes of comfort, air conditionoing, and sweat while working on a collaborative world building project, temporarily titled “surreal suburb” through a design collective, Unihoro Supply.
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- living skin eats the toxic skin
- Site: (40.22,-73.99)
- Project timeline: 2021-
- Author: Ahzin Nam
Modern history attempted to secure the comfort of predictability against nature through layers of chemical and synthetic building materials. With chemical contaminants entering bloodstreams, lead poisoning caused by domestic surfaces became an epidemic that have most affected lower income occupants of under-maintained buildings. Often requiring methods of complete displacements of the occupants and labor intensive methods that require melting and stripping down surfaces, Hyper-contaminated home is a proposal to create a living fungal mycelium plug in system to sequester heavy metal ions from lead contaminated surfaces.
I. Rotten home:
Contrary to the narratives of novel myco-materials, we are already living with fungi, in a dynamic closer to the fungal zombie. They live on walls, in walls, on us, and in us. The black spots against the white walls, the territorial marks of black molds, become the visual sign of health hazard, making the image of a rotten home. Alien organisms and the forces of wind and water expose the skeleton, decay the skin, and parasitically grow on cellulosic structures. Pests and unknown illnesses loom in the dark and damp spaces. The precarity and unpredictability made a rotten home a space that is no longer safe for us.
II. The Collapsed History of Chemically Contaminated Home:
The “off-the-shelves” materials in neat packaging guaranteed the homeowners water, fire, insects, mold, air-proof homes. The wall no longer became a sheet of wood or a stack of stones. Between the outer surface and the inner freshly painted white surface, we now have layers of plastic insulation, vapor barriers, fungicide-treated wood, fiber-glass, dry wall, primer, and paint. Here, we encounter the collapsed history of a new contaminated home.
III. Hypercontaminated Home:
Before we haphazardly transfer the toxicity around us from our homes to landfills, soil, water, and back to our blood, we need a new approach to peeling off the toxic skin. And for the process, we must revisit the organisms that we were planning to scrub, melt, and kill off in the first place. As the previous arrays of petri dish (Section B) shows, our buildings are already composed of organisms.
Mycelium sequester lead ions during their growth by binding lead ion to their body and removing the toxins from their immediate environments. A variety of species of fungi, such as Pleurotus, Aspergillus, Trichoderma have proven to be effective in the removal of heavy metal in marine environment, wastewater, and on land. The mycoremediation process has been used along the horizontal plane in or above the ground level, but we could reimagine the process of vertically rotating the plane of remediation, curing the toxic skin of the buildings that we occupy.
- Fax Heat
- Site: (40.36,-71.09)
- Project timeline: 2024-
- Author: Ahzin Nam
Contemporary media often center sight and sound, shaping presence through screens and speech. But what if intimacy could be mediated through thermal sensation? A 'heat faxer' reimagines communication as affective transmission, where temperature becomes signal and presence is no longer visual or verbal but embodied. In this framework, heat functions as a medium that is ephemeral, tactile, and atmospheric, capable of conveying emotional proximity across physical distance.
The prototype
Converting electricty to body heat
Assemblage Diagram
Initial Concept Sketch
Initial Concept Sketch 2
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Matrix For Your Catfish Persona
- Site: (40.36,-71.09)
- Project timeline: 2025-
- Author: Ahzin Nam
As automated tools increasingly mediate self-representation, identity becomes measurable and programmable as a set of variables that are reassembled into a digital identity. Catfishing becomes a critical concept today, as it exposes the gap between physical reality/content producer and perceived reality/audience, while also revealing the translation process between the two realities. Through the Catfish Matrix, the automated translation tool, the self becomes rendered in data, adjusted along a sliding scale, and reformulated into the “reversed” quantified self.
1. CATFISH
2. CATFISH MATRIX
Chat GPT was used to create a list of sliding scales that users can use to translate themselves into percentage of adjectives on the GPT defined spectrums. The initial prompt was: “I am currently trying to come up with a cat fish personality who is completely different from me in all the aspects of life. If i were to make sliding scale list as a matrix to create this personality, please provide a list of criteria and words at the opposite ends of the spectrum graph. Make the list as long and thorough as possible, using all the standards used by sociology and psychology to analyze a person's identity.”
GPT created a list of 12 categories of personliaty, referencing existing categorizations and quantification methods:
- Psychology (Big Five, MBTI, Jungian types, etc.)
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Sociology (social class, values, group behavior)
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Cultural dimensions (Hofstede, Schwartz values)
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Identity theory (gender, roles, race, religion, etc.)
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Communication style, attachment theory, motivation, etc.
The link to the chat: click here
The link to an excerpt of the final list: click here
3. IZZY CHEN
The catfish “recipe” generated at the end of the matrix is fed into GPT to create a reversed persona. As a demo, I used my own input to receive a catfish, Izzy Chen.
Name: Isabelle “Izzy” Chen
Age: 29 years old
Address: Condo in a gentrifying neighborhood of Portland, Oregon. Decor is modern minimalist with vintage and handmade accents, lots of plants, books, and soft lighting.
General Bio:
Izzy is a confident, thoughtful, highly polished individual who blends warmth with clarity. Raised in a small rural town but educated in elite academic settings, she’s now a rising creative director in a sustainability-focused design firm. She leans toward the feminine in expression—always immaculately styled with a clean, curated wardrobe and glowing skin—but balances that with a grounded, practical sensibility.Her childhood was marked by instability and emotional neglect, fueling a deep desire for meaningful connection and structure in adulthood. Despite past traumas, she’s purpose-driven, loyal, and has a high degree of emotional openness—though her boundaries are firm and her standards high.
Socially, Izzy is charismatic but discerning. She’s rarely online just for fun; her digital presence is educational, motivational, and carefully managed. While she leads quietly in most spaces, her influence is undeniable. Emotionally, she’s intuitive and attuned to others, but shields herself from performative empathy. Her deep core wound—abandonment—drives her to create a life of purpose and beauty, even as she carries unresolved grief.
Weekend Routine:
Saturday:-
7:00 AM – Wake up naturally; meditates and journals over tea with adaptogens.
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8:00 AM – Pilates class at a boutique studio, followed by a trip to the local farmers market.
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10:30 AM – Leisurely brunch with a few close friends (usually queer, artistic types); lots of talk about politics, design, and emotions.
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1:00 PM – Errands: grocery haul, dry cleaning, maybe a quick thrift run.
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3:00 PM – Quiet time at home: pottery, vintage book reading, skincare ritual.
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6:00 PM – Prepares a vegan dinner while listening to a philosophy podcast or audiobook.
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8:00 PM – Drinks and jazz bar with a small group—she dresses to stun but speaks softly, observing more than performing.
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11:00 PM – Back home for a wind-down bath and skincare routine; asleep by midnight.
Sunday:
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8:00 AM – Morning stretch and a walk through a nearby park or botanical garden.
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9:30 AM – Weekly review and planning in Notion—budget, goals, intentions.
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12:00 PM – Virtual check-in with a therapist or mentor.
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1:30 PM – Deep clean apartment while playing ambient or lo-fi music.
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3:00 PM – Content creation or curation for her professional Instagram (design, thought pieces, subtle life updates).
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6:00 PM – Light dinner and phone call with a chosen-family member or long-distance friend.
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8:00 PM – Unwinds with a literary novel or niche documentary.
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10:00 PM – Sleep hygiene ritual and bed.
Friday: The Seam Between Discipline and Unwinding
By 7:00 AM, Izzy is already awake, the soft chime of her analog sunrise clock coaxing her out of sleep. Her studio condo is still dark except for the dim amber glow of the salt lamp. She moves through her morning quietly—lighting a stick of Japanese incense, pouring hot water over her favorite adaptogenic tea blend, and settling into the same corner of the sofa she’s meditated in every morning for years. Her journal, worn at the edges, already has this week’s intentions scrawled in it, so she simply reflects on how she showed up that week: where she held her boundaries, where she abandoned herself, and what she’s proud of.
By 9:00 AM, she’s on Zoom with her remote team—Izzy is the creative director for a values-driven design firm that specializes in sustainable product branding. She’s charismatic, efficient, and empathetic in meetings—peppering in affirmations and well-timed humor—but doesn’t pretend to be “one of the girls.” She leads with grace but a firm backbone. Her desk is a vision board in itself: warm wood, handmade mugs, a linen-bound planner, and no chaos in sight.
She skips the chaos of midtown lunch spots and eats at home around 12:30 PM—usually a grain bowl with roasted veggies, some form of tahini sauce, and fermented radish on the side. She listens to a podcast—often on climate grief, ethical labor, or poetry as resistance—before transitioning into deep work mode until the late afternoon. She blocks off 3:00–5:00 PM every Friday as her "admin & alignment" time: she goes over finances, reviews goals, responds to lingering emails, and makes space to breathe before the weekend.
After powering down her devices around 5:30 PM, she slips into her version of nightwear—a structured linen jumpsuit, gold hoops, and polished skin. She walks to a nearby wine bar with warm lighting and soft jazz. Izzy isn’t there for networking—she doesn’t schmooze. She’s meeting two close friends: one queer, one ex-Mormon, both artists in healing. Their conversations spiral from dating red flags to intergenerational trauma to the ethics of local vs. global sourcing in clothing. She speaks softly, laughs generously, and leaves before the bar crowd thickens.
By 10:30 PM, she’s home, washing her face with ritualistic care. As she massages her face oil in, she plays an audiobook (maybe Octavia Butler or bell hooks). Her final act of the night is a brief check-in with herself: “Did I honor my capacity today?” She climbs into bed, a weighted blanket pressing against her chest, and drifts off before midnight.
Saturday: The Ritual of Slowness and Connection
Izzy wakes without an alarm around 7:30 AM, light filtering through gauzy curtains. Saturdays are sacred—not for productivity, but for presence. She brews French press coffee with cinnamon and oat milk, then opens her windows to let the cool air in. While sipping her drink, she scrolls through her digital Notion journal, reading last week’s notes and adding a new line to her “what I’m learning to forgive myself for” list.
By 9:00 AM, she’s at a boutique Pilates studio—an intimate space with soft lighting and wood floors, where everyone knows her name. She moves slowly, deliberately, grounding herself in the sensation of breath and muscle. After class, she heads to the local farmers market with her canvas tote and mental list. She greets her favorite vendors by name, sampling radicchio and fresh honey, chatting briefly but warmly. She selects flowers—always—and says it’s to honor softness in a hard world.
Lunch is a shared moment: she meets a friend (a trauma-informed therapist) at a plant-based café with brutalist interiors. They eat grainy sourdough and drink beet lattes, trading updates on therapy revelations, creative blocks, and dating woes. Izzy listens intently, asks questions with her whole face, and shares only when she has the energy to be held in return.
The afternoon is for quiet creation—she returns home, puts on a jazz vinyl, and shapes clay with her hands. Pottery has become a form of moving meditation for her. She’s not building a brand; she’s building an internal sense of steadiness. After an hour or two, she might take a break to read—usually nonfiction about design, ethics, or memoirs of women who survived.
Dinner is solitary but sacred. She cooks deliberately, plating her food beautifully even if it’s just for herself. While eating, she journals about grief, hope, and longing—she’s always had a melancholy undercurrent that she doesn’t run from. Around 8:00 PM, she’ll either attend a small, salon-style gathering (book club, film night, or slow fashion swap) or host one herself, never with more than five guests, always screen-free.
The night ends with her signature bath: sea salt, lavender oil, a lit beeswax candle. As she soaks, she listens to something gentle—often a guided reflection or a poet reading their own work. She doesn’t doomscroll. She isn’t trying to escape. She simply wants to feel everything without it overwhelming her.
By 11:00 PM, she’s back in bed, clean and calm, her phone on Do Not Disturb. She falls asleep with a journal on the nightstand and the faint scent of eucalyptus in the air.
Here is the link to Izzy Chen: click here
Here is the link to Izzy’s Substack: click here
Izzy Chen
Izzy Chen’s work
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Occupying empty lots as emergency housings during pandemic
- Site: (40.77,-73.97)
- Project timeline: 2019 - 2019 + 100 ma
- Author: Ahzin Nam
Studies have estimated the probability of novel disease outbreaks will increase three-fold in the next few decades based on the increasing rate at which novel pathogens such as SARS-CoV-2 have broken loose human populations in the past 50 years.The density of cities leaves the vulnerable population - the elderly, disabled, chronic patients, and single parents - at larger risks of [ X ] novel pathogens. The project imagines methods of promptly occupying empty lots of high density metropolises with prefabricated modules that can be stacked onsite as temporary “evacuative” structures.
The living blocks are manufactured off-site and gets slotted into the shelves on-site.
- Realtime Parallel Universe
- Site: (40.22,-73.99)
- Project timeline: 2021-2027
- Authors: Ahzin Nam + Leon Fang + Ravindra Bisram
In Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass, Alice discovers a world that operates with the logic of Chess. The project creates a real-time parallel universe narration of the subject’s everyday life using machine vision to detect “actants” and use the text list of the actants as an input for Natural Language Processing to generate a longer real-time fiction. In the process, the biases embedded within a digital camera, machine vision (YOLO) and natural language processing (GPT-2) create a “familiarly strange” world that is constantly modified by and rewriting the real world.
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Merch Booth as a big lamp
- Site: (40.43,-73.50)
- Project timeline: 2023
- Author: Food Architect
- (Dong Ping Wong + Ashely Kuo + Katty Cybulski + Ahzin Nam)
Commissioned by 88Nightmarket, the official merchandise store of 88Rising, the pop up store at Head in the Clouds festival reinterprets merch booths as a festive market like experience for visitors to dance, take pictures, and continue the festival experience while in the queue. The structure, using scaffoldings that are typically spotted in streets of the city, glows up at night, creating an image of a glowing lantern.
(photo credit: Dong Ping Wong)