Creative Strokes: Storytelling in Realism, Abstract, texture & Concept Paintings

 Hi there, I know you’re reading this from a place I once dreamed of. Maybe you’re smiling right now. Maybe life feels a little more stable, a little more clear. Maybe you’ve become the person I’m still trying so hard to be. But while you’re reading this… I want you to remember where this started. Right now, I’m not okay. I haven’t drawn anything in months. Not because I stopped loving art… but because life felt heavier than my passion. This phase of my life has been one of the most painful ones. Not just creatively, but personally. It affected everything. My mindset. My decisions. My confidence. I feel stuck. Lost. Like I’m trying to move, but something keeps pulling me back. There are days I feel completely drowned in my own thoughts. Days where I question everything - myself, my path, my worth. I’m trying… really trying to come out of this. And even though it doesn’t feel like it right now, I still believe in you. Because if you’re reading this, it means we ma...

Please take a look at the painting that I created and see what you think… then read my thoughts. This painting is about the sexual harassment which women are facing in day-to-day life. I actually made this painting when the number of harassment cases was  high, but now it has increased even more.  This piece confronts the harsh reality of sexual harassment and the failure of justice. Surrounded by scorched newsprint, the blindfolded figure of justice is violated by red hands , symbolizing silenced victims and a broken system that ignores their cries. A powerful call to acknowledge what society tries to burn away. Around her, I’ve used torn newspaper pieces - burnt at the corners. Because that’s what happens to their pain. A woman’s pain becomes news. For a day. Maybe two. And then… it disappears. That is why I burnt the edges , to show how quickly society lets these realities fade away, as if they never mattered. Nowadays in India, there is not a single day passing with...

  Alright folks, let’s talk about one of the most common questions we hear as artists : “Will AI replace artists?” This question seems to pop up everywhere lately. But when we really think about it, art has always been deeply connected to human emotions . Humans naturally tend to express and respond to emotions through creativity. And most of the time, people choose or appreciate art that emotionally connects with them . A piece of art becomes meaningful when it makes someone feel something - happiness, nostalgia, curiosity, or even sadness. AI can certainly generate images quickly. But it usually works with existing data and patterns it has learned from. So, I dont think it kinda replace us. As artists we create differently. We create from our experiences, thoughts, memories, and personal journeys . Those experiences often shape artworks in ways that naturally connect with others. That’s why many artworks resonate with people , because somewhere within that piece, there is a re...

In my previous post, I talked about that phase in life where passion and reality begin to pull us in different directions. During that time, I felt a lot of confusion , wanting to follow art, but also thinking about stability, income, and responsibilities , It was hard to explain those feelings with words, so I turned them into a painting. In this painting, the person stands between two paths. The fingerprint-like road symbolizes  identity and self-expression -  the part of us that wants to follow our passion. The other reflects the structured path many of us choose for stability and survival.  Around the scene, you can see scattered clocks and question marks. For me, they represent something many of us feel during that stage: the pressure of time and the uncertainty of making the “right” choice.  Above everything, there is a face watching the scene, like a quiet observer. It represents self-reflection. That moment when you step back and ask yourself: Who am I rea...

Have you ever been at that stage in life where you want to become a full-time artist… but something inside you hesitates? Not because you don’t love art. Not because you don’t believe in yourself. But because of things like stability, income, and family. I think many artists quietly go through this phase. There’s this strong passion inside us that wants to create, explore, and live a life around art. At the same time, there’s another voice reminding us about responsibilities , the need for stability, the need to earn, the need to build a secure future. And sometimes those two voices don’t agree with each other. People around us often suggest the safer path. A stable job. A corporate career. Something predictable. But somewhere deep inside, we start feeling something else -  guilt . Guilt for wanting to follow our passion. Guilt for thinking about art when life asks us to be practical. It’s a strange feeling… wanting something so deeply, yet feeling unsure if it’s the right thing to...

 I think all of us carry a broken piece somewhere inside. Not the kind a doctor can see. Not the kind medicine can easily fix. I’m talking about those quiet wounds , heartbreak, stress, loneliness, memories that stay longer than we want them to. If you’ve ever felt that way, I want you to know something. I understand. I’ve been there too. There were moments when nothing really helped. No advice, no distraction, nothing. And that’s when I realized something strange but beautiful. Some wounds cannot be healed by medication. But they can be touched by music. Have you ever listened to a song and felt like it understood you completely? Like the lyrics were saying exactly what you were feeling inside? For me, music became a quiet support during difficult moments. And slowly, it helped. That’s what this artwork represents to me. A heart that carries pain… being slowly filled and healed by music. Because the truth is, we all go through hard times. But you’re not alone in...

Alright folks, what’s up? Today I’m not going to bore you with tips. Instead, I want to share a very honest side of my journey as an artist. First, let me say this clearly: This is just my personal experience. Sketching daily works for many artists, but for me it didn’t always feel natural. You often hear artists say, “Sketch every day.” And yes, it’s good advice. But here’s the truth from my side. I don’t sketch every day. For a long time, I tried to force myself to do it. I told myself that if other artists could sketch daily, I should be able to do it too. So I pushed myself to sketch every single day. But instead of helping me, it only stressed me out. Over the years I realized something important: That routine works for some artists ,but it doesn’t work for everyone. For me, sketching works best when my mind actually feels like creating. When I’m curious, calm, and excited to pick up the pencil. I’m not saying you shouldn’t sketch daily. If that works for you, that’s amazing. But ...

Sometimes while working on a painting, the pressure to finish it becomes too strong. You keep looking at the canvas and thinking, “I need to finish this quickly.” The longer it takes, the more stressed you start to feel. And then something happens. You look at the painting and tell yourself, “That’s it. It’s done. I’ve finished it.”   I’ve done this many times. When I rush a painting just to finish it, the result is rarely good. The painting loses the patience and attention it needed. Over time I realized something about my own process: Whenever I start waiting for the painting to end quickly, that’s when things usually go wrong. Good work rarely comes from rushing the ending. Painting  needs time and patience. And sometimes the best thing we can do is slow down instead of trying to reach the finish line quickly. Have you ever convinced yourself a painting was finished just because you were tired or stressed?

Sometimes the hardest part of painting isn’t actually painting. It’s deciding when the painting is finished. You start with confidence. The first few strokes feel exciting. The colors look right. Everything feels like it’s going somewhere. Then comes the moment . You step back and think: “Is it done… or should I add something?” Maybe just a little highlight. Maybe one more shadow. Maybe a small texture here. But right before you add that next stroke, another thought appears in your head: “What if I ruin the whole painting?” Suddenly your brush is just… hovering in the air. You want to improve the painting. But you’re also scared that one wrong stroke might destroy what already looks good. So you stare at the canvas. Step back. Come closer again. Tilt your head like that will magically give you the answer. Five minutes later you’re still thinking: “Just one more stroke… maybe?” And the funny thing is , sometimes the best version of the painting was the one you had b...

 This painting represents my inner journey.  The full moon symbolizes the potential within me, bright, complete, yet waiting to be fully realized.  The small figure standing in my mind represents self-doubt and confusion, questioning my own growth.  The contrast of an umbrella without rain represents unnecessary fear or overthinking, protecting yourself even when it’s safe, because doubt clouds the mind even in bright moments.  Surrounding it all, the pink sky symbolizes new beginnings, hope, and the promise of something beautiful ahead. Yet, the reflection beneath shows silent growth, reminding me that even in moments of uncertainty, I am still evolving. What part of this painting connects with you the most?

  For a long time, I thought every artist needed a specific inspiration — someone they look up to and think, “I want to create like them.” But over time, I realized my mind doesn’t work that way. Before college, I loved realism. I even had an artist in mind whose work I admired deeply. But slowly things started changing. My interests shifted. I became curious about conceptual art, ideas, and meanings behind artworks. And later, something else started exciting me even more ,  experimentation . Now I find myself drawn to different materials, textures, and natural pigments. I enjoy the process of discovering what happens when materials interact. Sometimes the outcome is unexpected, and that’s the most beautiful part. The truth is, I don’t have one particular artist I want to be like. When I see good artwork, I admire it. I get inspired by it. But my mind doesn’t stay with one person. Instead, it keeps exploring different possibilities. I realized that maybe my inspiration isn’t a...

  One thing I’ve slowly learned in my art journey is that creativity becomes much more exciting when we stop limiting ourselves to just one way of doing things. For a long time, I mostly worked with the materials I was comfortable with. But recently, I started trying different things , experimenting with textures, surfaces, and even making pigments from natural materials like rocks. The process itself became a big part of the experience. When I tried making pigments from the earth for one of my recent artworks, it reminded me that art doesn’t always have to start with store-bought materials. Sometimes the process of exploring and discovering new materials can open up completely new ideas. Experimenting also removes a lot of pressure. When you try something new, there is no expectation for it to be perfect. It becomes more about curiosity ,  What happens if I try this? What kind of texture will this create? That curiosity is where creativity really starts to grow. I think creat...

          Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about where art really began , those early cave paintings where people used whatever they had around them to tell stories on stone walls. For this piece, I wanted to experience a little bit of that process myself. Instead of using regular paints, I tried something different. I actually made my own pigments by grinding rocks to create colours from the earth. Honestly, that part became my favorite part of the whole process. There was something really calming about it - slowly grinding the rocks, watching the colors appear, and turning something so natural into paint. I felt really relaxed while doing it, almost like the process itself mattered more than the final artwork. The piece shows ancient people hunting deer, inspired by the scenes we often see in cave paintings. I also added handprints, because they’ve always fascinated me. To me, they feel like a simple but powerful message from the past , a quiet way of sayin...

  Sometimes when I don’t create art for many days, I start feeling pressure. The guilt slowly turns into frustration, and instead of feeling inspired, I feel exhausted. When that happens, I try something a little different. I stop trying to force art completely. For a few days, I don’t touch my canvas at all. Instead, I spend time on other things — small activities, hobbies, or simply stepping away from the pressure of creating. Interestingly, when I return to art after that break, my mind feels clearer. Ideas flow more naturally, and creating feels enjoyable again. Sometimes the best way to reconnect with art is to step away from it for a while. Have you ever taken a break from something you love and returned to it with a fresh mind? 🎨

  Lately, I’ve been feeling a little lost in my journey as an artist. Sometimes I look at others and feel like they are moving faster, achieving more, or doing things better. It makes me question if I’m doing enough. But I’m slowly realizing that every creative path is different. As an artist, there are days when ideas flow easily, and there are days when nothing feels clear. In those moments, it’s easy to feel stuck. What helps me is going back to the simple act of creating , without thinking about perfection, expectations, or where it will lead. When I just sit down and make art without pressure, I feel satisfied. It gives me a sense of peace. Feeling lost is not always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s part of discovering our own direction. Many of us are still figuring things out — growing through every piece we create. Have you ever felt this way in your own journey?

  As an artist, I’ve always shared my work — the paintings, the ideas, the finished pieces. But behind every artwork, there are also thoughts, doubts, and emotions that are rarely spoken about.  Lately, I’ve realized that many of these feelings are not just mine. The pressure to be perfect, the moments of feeling lost, the quiet struggle to keep creating — many people experience these in their own ways.  So from now on, my blog will not only share my art, but also the emotions and thoughts that come with being an artist. Because art is not just about what we create. It’s also about what we feel while creating.  If even one person reads these words and feels understood, then sharing them is worth it. Have you ever felt emotions in your journey that you never found the right words to share?

  An artist’s perspective on perfectionism, mistakes, and creative freedom. As an artist, I often feel the pressure to make everything perfect. Every line, every color, every idea — it feels like it has to be flawless. Sometimes that pressure doesn’t come from others, but from myself. Seeing so many perfect artworks on social media can make us feel like we are not doing enough. But the truth is, art was never meant to be perfect. Some of the most meaningful pieces come from mistakes, messy strokes, and unexpected changes. As artists, we are not just creating images — we are expressing feelings. And feelings are never perfect. Maybe you’ve felt this too — not just in art, but in life. The fear of making mistakes, the pressure to do everything right. But slowly I’m learning that imperfections are part of the process.When I stop thinking about perfection and simply create, I feel satisfied. It brings me a sense of peace. Sometimes the most honest art begins exactly where pe...