Since the course as a whole is already so heavily focused on construction, 3D forms, etc. the way in which I like to leverage the treasure chest challenge is to give students the opportunity to explore concepts related to design, using what they've learned already. So the feedback I provide, while I may touch on a few points relating to the more standard drawabox material, is going to focus primarily on the choices you've made in the designs themselves, and how we might adjust the kinds of things you consider to help on that front. It's very much outside of the scope of the main course itself, but I think it's an excellent opportunity to build a bridge forwards into the kinds of things that really matter. In a sense, it's like learning to write a story, whereas thus far all we've been learning is vocabulary and grammar.

Before I get to that, I did want to note that later in the set, you had a strong tendency towards really extreme foreshortening on your initial bounding boxes. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that this was the result of either relying on plotted vanishing points, or on perspective tools - either case being one where you'd have to place your VPs somewhere in the software you were using, which may have resulted in them being placed relatively close to your object, forcing a very dramatic foreshortening.

If this was the result of perspective tools, I have no problem with you using them, but as with any tool it is imperative that the tools aren't making the decisions for you. Meaning, if your tool has limitations that mean you can only place your VPs within a certain distance from the object you're drawing, and that isn't a choice you are consciously making, then the tool is not suited to the task. Don't shoehorn what you're doing to fit into the tools you've got, or what you produce will only ever be derivative of those tools. Decide what it is you're going for, then pick the tools that fit the situation - even if that means going through considerably more trouble in doing so. Design itself is in the choices we make, and so when we abdicate the responsibility associated with making those choices, we abdicate the role of designer.

If conversely you were manually plotting back to VPs (effectively approaching this more similarly to the plotted perspective exercise in Lesson 1), then in doing so, you'd be largely taking the benefits gained from the drawabox coursework up until this point, and setting it aside. We work to develop our spatial reasoning skills for the express purpose of freeing up our conscious cognitive resources to focus on the choices associated with design, composition, etc. instead of the processes involved in plotted, technical perspective. Every time we go back to the VP, we shift our focus away from what we're drawing, and knock ourselves out of the focused "flow state" where we design at our best.

If I were to go double or nothing on my guess, I'd say that it is more likely that you're working with a perspective tool here, as your design work is coming along in a way that suggests that you were able to find yourself in that flow state, and that you did have ample cognitive resources to bring to bear to that end - which is certainly the better of the two in the context of what we're doing here.

Either way, keep in mind that really dramatic foreshortening occurs either when the object is very large, or very close to the viewer's eye, which in both cases is not really a good fit for treasure chests. More broadly, it's also not the best choice for design in general, since it adds a layer of complexity that can interfere with how that design is communicated.

To be clear, I don't expect you to have already known much of this - so don't worry too much about it. I'm more just taking the opportunity to lay out these considerations so you can keep them in mind going forward. Additionally, nothing of what I've discussed thus far applies to the pages you did traditionally, where your foreshortening was much more modest, and better suited to the task at hand.

So, let's get into some of those design considerations.

The first of these is one that was getting less attention initially, but that you actually implemented more consistently further into the set, showing that you picked up on this yourself, which is always great to see. It has to do with the thickness of things.

Objects are ultimately made up of materials, and materials are rarely ever so thin that they would not show a visible edge, so getting in the habit of always ensuring that you're considering not only the front-facing plane of an object, but also the side plane that would define its thickness. This means that every bit of material you add is also going to add to that thickness, and depending on how they're built up, some arrangements that might have been possible if everything was paper thin now won't work, because those elements don't line up at the same "levels" of thickness.

I remember this being one of the biggest things that my work lacked as an early artist, especially when drawing characters. Things like belts for example were always drawn paper-thin, and so they lacked dimension and depth, and I was able to get away without conflict between the layering of clothing in their outfits. But that conflict is the bread and butter of design - design is an act of problem solving, and without problems to solve, there is no design. At least, not really.

So for example here, 26 has no thickness in these vertical/horizontal brackets, which makes it feel rather uninteresting and not entirely realistic. In 27, while there are some areas where thickness is missing, there are places where you have included it and even just that makes it appear far more interesting and believable as a 3D structure.

The next point to take into consideration goes beyond the object itself, and involves asking questions about who is making it, and who it's for. Who is the operative word here, and you'll find that many of these considerations can be framed as questions.

Who is making it speaks to the culture or society that is producing the object, and more specifically, the technology to which they have access. They may exist in a world that has only access to rudimentary crafting tools and techniques, or they may simply not be very wealthy, forcing them to work within limitations. Similarly, who it's for speaks to the same consideration - the even with the fanciest tools being available, if your customer can't afford it, then the price point at which the object is sold is still going to impose restrictions on what technology might be used in its making.

A good example of this is adhesion, and looking at a number of your drawings, you do include rivets in your designs, which is a big step in the right direction - although you may be doing this more from the perspective of "these are in the references I'm using" or "this is going to look cool" as opposed to "this is necessary for this object to work". Either way, still a step in the right direction.

There are so many ways to adhere objects. From nails and rivets, to screws (threading is admittedly not the simplest thing to achieve), to various kinds of chemical adhesives to bond materials together, and the craftsman making the object may not have access to all of them. Looking at number 39, you've got some nice strips (could be metal, could be leather) over the lid, with rivets at regular intervals. The strips themselves can be functioning like brackets, meant to hold the different pieces of the lid itself in place, although your design appears to imply that the lid is a single solid piece. Some societies may be better equipped to warp a piece of wood into such a curved surface than others, which is why it's pretty common to see such lids made out of separate slats of wood (which is where the brackets and spaced out rivets come in). This is a good example of where pulling a visual element from a reference is a good start, but understanding what role those individual components serve, and why they're set up in the way they are helps in ensuring you're combining them in ways that make sense.

Of course, there are always things that are more decorative than functional. A good example of this are the trims that we see in chests like this one (that is, the additional layer of boards that cover the edges) - it certainly serves a purpose in reinforcing points that might frequently be subject to impact, but more than anything it just creates a much nicer, cleaner look. But even that speaks to the wealth of the eventual owner of such an object - someone who hasn't got a lot of money to spend is going to focus on function over form.

Overall, I think your designs are quite lovely primarily for your heavy use of decorative flair, especially further into the set. Combining that with a stronger understanding of how the components in play might work, the functional purposes they might serve, and so on will help elevate your sense of design - and more than that, you'll find that all of a sudden you're spending less and less time thinking of things to add.

This brings me to a last point, and a video. Some years ago I made a course as part of a partnership with Proko's youtube channel, and the video I recommended they use to market actually gives away the whole game (in the sense that it's the most valuable advice the course offers - the rest more broadly talks about design, how I've learned to think about design in my career as a concept artist, anecdotes from jobs I've done, over recordings of my working on a larger environment design project, so purchasing the course is not necessary). It talks about a strategy I like to call, "What If".

What if is the bedrock of my approach to design. Every idea starts out as a seed, something one can't really call an "idea" just yet, but something that could be explored and developed into one. By taking that seed and asking myself questions about it, about the world in which it exists, the people involved in making or using it, the conditions in which they operate, and so forth, I identify areas where my idea is lacking. I identify problems that need to be solved, in order for it to be expanded into a real idea.

Every question, I answer through design, and through drawing. We don't just sit and work on a single drawing to represent the idea, but rather create tons - sometimes drawings that focus on the individual problem being solved, and sometimes drawings that combine different solutions I've iterated upon to explore how they might come together. But it all comes back to that one question: what if.

Anyway! I've rambled on about my passion for design enough as it is, so I'll leave you with that. If you have any questions or wish for clarification on any particular points (or are uncertain about specific problems you encountered when completing the challenge), feel free to ask. Otherwise, I'll go ahead and mark this challenge as complete.