Seeing Beauty in the Ordinary

I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of interdependence—the idea that everything in the universe is intricately connected. The stories in this series reflect that very concept, exploring how each being, object, idea, or emotion only exists in relation to a constantly evolving, interconnected network. In my work, I’ve often used overlapping visual metaphors to represent this, and this series pushed me to dive deeper into exploring even more ways of illustrating these connections. It inspired me to consider how we shape each other’s realities, both seen and unseen, and to highlight the beauty and complexity of these relationships.

To me, an artwork is successful when it makes someone pause and look again. I aim to spark a sense of wonder by reimagining familiar scenes—like a quiet street, a serene landscape, a fleeting interaction, or a day at the beach—by adding unexpected, dreamlike elements. It’s a way of encouraging others to not take things at face value, to dig deeper, and to form their own unique perspectives. I hope my work invites reflection on the way we perceive the world and challenges people to question assumptions. Ultimately, I want viewers to feel inspired to explore their own imagination and to see beauty in the overlooked or the ordinary.

My personal work often serves as a reflection of my inner state, which resonates with universal human experiences that many of us face at some points in our lives. Themes such as loneliness, body acceptance, and emotional vulnerability frequently emerge in my art. I create worlds where these issues feel less overwhelming, inviting viewers to find comfort, express themselves, or feel less isolated. I love that art is subjective, and it always amazes me how people from all over the world interpret my work and relate to these themes in their own unique ways.

On the editorial side, I’ve tackled more pressing global issues, some of which are deeply unsettling to illustrate. In those instances, I keep the visuals simple, subtle, and metaphorical, aiming to provoke thought without being overly explicit.

My process is closely tied to my emotional state, and I often keep a notebook to jot down ideas. While I don’t always act on them immediately, revisiting these notes over time helps me reconnect with what resonates and inspires me to create.

When I begin, I usually start by building the scene or space where the idea will unfold. This step isn’t necessarily the most crucial, but it serves as a warm up and allows me to connect with the idea and let it evolve. After I’ve sketched the scene, I refine it, experimenting with colors and compositions, and sit with it for a few days. Taking a step back gives me a fresh perspective. Once I’m satisfied with the layout and color scheme, I add the finer details and textures to bring the work to life.

Although I’ve never considered myself a fine artist, I did experiment with pencils, watercolors, and acrylic paints growing up. My first artwork was created in art school, and it was a series of signage inspired by the rich and colorful street art of India. The exploration defied the idea of  minimalism. While I love minimalism, it was fun to defy foundational rules of wayfinding and signage, and see what happens when you break them. 

It can be challenging, but I’ve found ways to make both aspects of my creative life complement each other. My commercial work—primarily product marketing, photo and video campaigns, and brand design—demands strategic thinking and collaboration, while my illustration work offers creative freedom.

Although the nature of the work is vastly different, there are a few common threads that create a balance between the two. My art involves conceptual thinking and visualization, which helps me bring a fresh perspective to my projects with different companies. Similarly, brand design and creative direction have influenced the way I approach my personal work, and I spend a lot of time refining my personal brand identity and keeping my illustration style unique and identifiable.

Finding time for personal work can be tough, but it’s as relaxing for me as reading a book. I usually dedicate weekends or evenings—when I’m not feeling particularly social—to immerse myself in my personal projects.