Memory Trade & Big Data Push

This project explores the intersection of memory trade and big data push, envisioning a future society where memories are no longer personal experiences but commodities that can be stored, bought, sold, and even algorithmically pushed. In this world, an individual’s past is no longer entirely their own—corporations and governments can analyze, modify, and implant memories to shape people's thoughts, consumer behavior, and social perceptions.

The inspiration for this project comes from modern algorithmic recommendation systems, data privacy controversies, and information manipulation cases, such as the Cambridge Analytica scandal, AI-driven content biases, and legal debates on the "right to be forgotten." Additionally, scientific research on trauma memory deletion, the spread of misinformation, and NFT-style digital asset transactions further informs the study.

Cambridge Analytica was a British data analytics company specializing in big data mining and psychological profilingto influence political elections. In 2018, The New York Times and The Guardian revealed that the company illegally harvested data from over 50 million Facebook users and used it for targeted political advertisements, impacting the 2016 U.S. presidential election and the Brexit referendum. This scandal sparked global debates on data privacy, election manipulation, and the ethical responsibilities of social media platforms.

This project explores the intersection of memory trade and big data push, envisioning a future where memories become commodities that can be stored, bought, sold, pushed, and even manipulated. The research will focus on technological, social, ethical, and speculative aspects, examining how memory can be stored in physical media like USBs, how AI and algorithms influence memory distribution, whether governments or corporations use data to control public perception, and the impact of memory manipulation on personal identity. Additionally, the project will analyze real-world cases of data breaches, privacy violations, and social media-driven information control, questioning whether memory subscription services, black market trades, or algorithmic thought control could emerge. The final outcome will be a visual representation of the potential implications of a future memory trade system, challenging the notion of human autonomy over cognition and memory ownership.

I chose a limited palette of black, red, and beige to establish mood and tone. Black symbolizes the coldness of the system and digital surveillance; red conveys both danger and emotion—blood, urgency, memory; and the beige lettering ties back to the vintage paper texture used throughout the interior pages, suggesting an archival or outdated data format.

At the center, I designed a silhouette of a woman’s profile merged with a play button. This represents a standardized memory file—a person reduced to a playable video clip. I deliberately removed facial features to emphasize how the system sees these individuals: as anonymous, consumable data.

The visual of the video player interface was inspired by online streaming platforms. It's a symbol of how memory—in this dystopian world and perhaps even in ours—can be easily accessed, played, consumed, and forgotten.

The bold title “UNARCHIVED” is the emotional and conceptual core of the story. It reflects a state of rejection—this memory wasn’t deemed important enough to be preserved. That unresolved, unfiled memory is exactly what I wanted to explore.

Below it, I used the phrases “MEMORY TRADE” and “DECEASED” in a sterile, system-like typography. Cold, bureaucratic, almost absurd—they represent the normalized institutional system behind memory exchange, stripped of all humanity.

To me, this cover isn’t just a title page. It’s the entire premise of the comic boiled down into one haunting question:

In a future where everything is digitized and efficient, what happens to a memory no one wants? Can someone still choose to remember it?

The distorted black reflection at the bottom could resemble a digital glitch, a ripple in water, or a fading trace of identity. It blurs the line between flesh and data, reality and archive.

I intentionally left out any text on the back. Instead, I let the visual tension between black and red create an atmosphere of irreversible loss and digital control.

This page introduces the world setting—where memories are archived, sorted, and moved across the city by deliverymen like him, functioning as memory couriers in a systematized society.

2.Cohesive and Striking Visual Style
The red-black color scheme combined with a textured paper background reinforces the “cyber wasteland” aesthetic. The highly stylized visual language—consistent lines, shadows, and compositions—immerses the viewer and creates a unified tone across all pages.

3.Complete Story Arc with Emotional Climax Despite changes made during production, the final storyline is coherent and compelling. From task initiation to resistance and emotional awakening, the protagonist’s journey unfolds naturally and allows the audience to uncover the truth behind the memory while empathizing with his decisions.

4.Narrative Details Enhance Emotional Tension
Small but impactful visual cues—such as the mother’s monologue, the protagonist’s facial expressions, the glitch effects in the memory footage—build emotional density and strengthen the story's immersive quality.

Despite the challenges and revisions along the way, this creative process has given me clarity in my voice as an illustrator and a storyteller. It has shown me the quiet yet profound emotional power that visual media can carry.

One of the most valuable things I gained was a deeper understanding of comic structure—how to plan page numbers, rhythm, and storytelling layout in a coherent and emotionally engaging way. This was an area I had little experience with before, and Fred’s input helped me build that confidence step by step.

Fred was also very encouraging about my visual style, and his recognition gave me a huge boost of confidence. Knowing that my work carries a distinct voice has motivated me to trust my instincts more and push my visuals even further.

Looking back, I’ve realized the importance of early-stage planning—especially in narrative-based illustration. If I can think more clearly about structure, pacing, and story direction in the beginning, the deeper parts of the creative process will become much smoother.

Overall, I am very thankful for this journey and all the support I've received. This experience has not only helped me grow technically, but also helped me solidify my identity as a visual storyteller.

The sketching phase allowed me to quickly and freely capture ideas—I didn’t need to worry about details and could instead focus on how the story flowed and how the visual rhythm was built. It also helped me identify issues early on, such as awkward scene transitions or compositions that felt either too crowded or too empty. During the later detailed rendering phase, I relied on these sketches as blueprints to gradually refine each panel and enhance both the narrative clarity and visual impact.

Overall, these drafts were not just tools for early exploration; they served as a crucial bridge between concept and final execution. They reflect the entire process of moving from chaos to clarity.

Overall, these drafts helped clarify my use of line hierarchy and spatial logic before coloring. They strengthened my confidence in manipulating line density, composition angles, and visual pacing—greatly contributing to the final piece’s impact.

2.Linework: Clean, sharp, and comic-style lines contribute to dynamic and graphic compositions.

3.Narrative Technique: Her work often includes sequential storytelling, use of repeated imagery, and symbolic arrangements to suggest deeper psychological or social themes.

4.Symbolism: She frequently uses surreal visual motifs like split heads, disjointed limbs, and hollow figures to explore anxiety, identity, and fragmentation.

5.Themes: Topics often include identity, violence, social control, memory, and internal psychological landscapes.

His signature style includes silent, wordless panels that leave viewers to interpret the meaning on their own, often with unease.

1. Emotional Contrast and Visual Tension
   I learned from him that the calmer and cleaner the image, the more disturbing the underlying message can become. This inspired how I portrayed themes like digital decay, memory loss, and institutional coldness in Unarchived—using structured visuals to highlight unsettling ideas.

2. Wordless Storytelling and Visual Logic
   His ability to narrate without dialogue encouraged me to rely more on visual pacing and composition, letting imagery carry the story forward rather than depending on text.

3. Systemic Indifference vs. Personal Absurdity
   His satire made me reflect on how "rational behavior" can feel absurd in an irrational world. In Unarchived, the protagonist’s emotional reaction to systemic erasure echoes this contrast—an honest feeling in an inhuman framework.

In 2015, Facebook introduced the “Memorialized Account” system, allowing the account of a deceased user to be preserved in a memorial state. Family members or authorized contacts can manage certain aspects: display tributes, limit interactions, or assign a legacy contact. While intended as a compassionate tool, it sparked public debate over digital ownership after death: Do we own our memories online? And can mourning itself be shaped or even exploited by platform algorithms?

This real-world case directly influenced the concept behind my comic Unarchived. In the story, “unarchived memories” resemble abandoned digital legacies—data left behind without anyone to claim or preserve them. Though Facebook’s system offers a technical solution, the deeper issue remains: Who controls our memories? Who decides what should be remembered—and what should be deleted?

That dilemma became the starting point for my narrative.

In a televised program, Taiwanese musician Bao Xiaobai used AI technology to reconstruct the voice and appearance of his deceased daughter. Through AI, the child’s virtual image sang a birthday song to her mother. The emotional scene moved some viewers, but also raised public concern about the use of such technology in private grief.

When technology offers the illusion of “one last moment,” does it help people heal—or does it deepen emotional dependency?
Can we truly say goodbye if grief is constantly revived by algorithms?

In the digital age, personal data and even emotional memory have increasingly become commercial assets. Social media platforms harvest user-generated content—photos, conversations, locations—and use it to create detailed behavioral profiles. This practice fuels what scholar Shoshana Zuboff calls Surveillance Capitalism, a system in which human experience itself is turned into a raw material for profit.

This trend has raised growing concerns around privacy, consent, memory authenticity, and emotional manipulation.

2.Emotional Exploitation:
Platforms use sentimental triggers to retain engagement—turning personal memories into click-generating content. This raises concerns about emotional manipulation and digital dependency.

3.Distortion of Memory:
When data systems selectively curate which memories we see, they may reshape personal history, distorting authenticity and weakening agency in how we remember ourselves and others.

By framing memory as a transactional object (via USB drives, black market trades), I reflect on the unsettling reality that personal experience is no longer sacred—it’s sellable.
My work asks: In a future run by data, can we still claim ownership over our past?

The exhibition featured works by artists such as Timo Arnall, Thomson and Craighead, and Ryoji Ikeda. Their pieces addressed the relationship between data and themes such as surveillance, memory, architecture, and personal identity.

Inspiration for Unarchived

This exhibition deeply resonated with the core of Unarchived. It inspired me to explore how digital systems manage, distort, or erase memory—and how that impacts the individual’s emotional identity. Like the show, my project questions how memory can be transformed into code, visuals, or even silence under data control.

Calle’s works often pair intimate imagery with handwritten or typed reflections. She blurs the line between documentary and fiction, inviting viewers into deeply personal emotional spaces while simultaneously maintaining conceptual control.

Inspiration for Unarchived

Calle’s practice reminded me that memory is not only stored—it is authored. In Unarchived, I similarly explore how individuals attempt to hold on to or retrieve fragments of memory within systems that are built to erase or commodify them. Calle’s ability to make absence visible helped shape the emotional language of my own storytelling.

1.People who have received algorithm-driven memory reminders on social media (e.g., “On This Day” features);

2.Young adults sensitive to issues of privacy, data surveillance, and digital ownership;

3.Viewers interested in AI, virtual personas, and ethics in future technologies;

4.Those who have experienced grief and questioned how we preserve memories in digital spaces;

5.Fans of speculative fiction, cyberpunk, and visual storytelling.

I want audiences to recognize a part of themselves in the narrative—the fragile connections between humans, memory, and machines. In a sense, this work is not about “how far the future is,” but rather whether we still have the right to remember.

More broadly, Unarchived addresses a pressing contemporary concern:

When memory is commodified and data is weaponized, what fragments of humanity can we still hold on to?
This makes the project not only meaningful for young creatives and art lovers, but also relevant to broader public discourse.