The art of living
Turning my childhood ambition into reality, I challenged myself to become a professional artist in a month by exhibiting a series of paintings at a gallery for World Art Day

Lean long fingers steadily holding a thin paintbrush, I brace myself and begin the first strokes of paint on an outlined canvas. The tip of the brush touches a vibrant shade of pink made by mixing acrylic colours- titanium white and primary red. The idea takes shape, and the pink detailing looks like a design inspired by henna on a bride’s hands.
A vivacious and memorable childhood in northern India, filled with colours, and cultural ceremonies especially weddings led me to explore my creative side. Watching a person using a cone whip to make an intricate, detailed design on the hands of the masses in under an hour always fascinated me. I wanted to learn it so, at the age of 14, I began practising Mehendi art on any person who would lend me their hand.
Although I am an enthusiastic digital illustrator and occasionally post my digital drawings on my Instagram art blog, The Paper Phantasm, I always admired artists working on canvases or existing non-electronic materials. My childhood passion for art made me want to challenge myself ahead of World Art Day on 15 April. After years, I was inspired to create something bigger than digital illustrations, perhaps, acrylic paintings which reflected the world through my eyes. It was that moment when I decided to launch myself as a professional artist within a month.
Conjecturing professionalism
At first glance, the challenge to become a professional artist in a month seemed easy as the main goal was to make a massive painting that is skillfully illustrated and looks beautiful. It was then that I accidentally met a self-employed multidisciplinary artist while crossing a curation space, Penny Hallas, 61, who practices drawing, painting, printmaking, sculpture, and video with site responsive and collaborative approaches. She told me that a professional artist should have a serious intent to do something and treat the artwork with real respect.
Penny says, “It’s something to do with the audience, I think. Before becoming a full-time artist, I was an art therapist with the NHS and my creative artwork was very much hidden. It was only when I started sharing it with people and made a little bit of money through it, I began to conceive myself as a professional artist. Although, the seriousness struck when I had to go self-employed to declare my tax which helped me self-assess and embrace the professionalism.”

Penny Hallas's curation at Tactile BOSCH, an art space in Cardiff's city centre
Penny Hallas's curation at Tactile BOSCH, an art space in Cardiff's city centre
I now consider myself an artist
Another artist, Alice Randel Shillabeer, 34, also the director of a community-focused art gallery, Umbrella Art Collective in Cardiff helped pin down the definition of a professional artist.
Alice said, “I now consider myself as an artist even though I don’t make money through my artwork. I believe it’s all about being able to perceive the work that you’re doing as art. People see artists as creative people who generate a significant income that they can live on but in reality, artists are not paid as much. In the professional sense, artists are those who make a certain type of work which makes an impact in the world.”
During my visits to art galleries, I noticed that exhibitions displayed a minimum of three artworks by each artist. After asking around those galleries, I decided that I would make at least four paintings in the same style and theme. The goal was to get an art gallery to exhibit my work. Getting paid for my hard work did not matter as long as my work was out there, being seen and bringing joy to people’s eyes.

Shubhangi's Henna design
Shubhangi's Henna design

Harry Styles designed by The Paper Phantasm
Harry Styles designed by The Paper Phantasm
Finding my muse
The director of Umbrella Art Collective said that aspiring artists should figure out what makes them tick whether it’s painting, murals or even jewellery making. She said, “You must find what is your passion, and what really brings you alive. When I was younger, I was always dragged to art galleries and museums and the installation works there made me feel alive like I had a whole different unexpected reaction to the world. Absorb, see and experience things, go to exhibitions, cultural events and soak up the world but avoid isolation or get stuck in your bubble, it happens to many artists.”
I took on Alice’s advice and began visiting random galleries, cafes, and bookshops in Cardiff. I even travelled to London and decided to walk in the centre without a plan. However, my inspiration truly struck from browsing my childhood photos captured by my father and a few photographs I clicked at my family’s housewarming ceremony in India.
Growing up in a country where people come together to celebrate every occasion, religious and otherwise, the community has always played an integral part in my life. Not being able to visit my home in India for two years due to the pandemic, I realised my culture and the people I grew up with is my muse.
Rays of inspiration flooded my way when I stumbled upon an exhibition called, ‘Soft Edge of the Blade’ in February by Iranian artists from Tehran’s Dastaan gallery featured at No.9 Cork Street, London. The attention to detail in the paintings by Ali Akbar Sadeghi reminded me of mandala art, henna designs, and Indian historical paintings from the era of Mughal art spanned across the reign of three emperors from 1580 to 1650 including the famous Shah Jahan period.
Shah Jahan emptied his treasury to build the UNESCO World Heritage site, Taj Mahal in memory of his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. According to Victoria and Albert Museum in London, it was an age when “Hindu and Muslim artists and craftsmen from the northern regions of the Indian subcontinent worked with Iranian masters in the masculine environment of the royal workshops. Their very different traditions were combined to produce a radically new, and rapidly evolving style of art for the court.”

Iranian artist's painting at No.9 Cork Street, London
Iranian artist's painting at No.9 Cork Street, London
Revisiting the paintings from the Mughal era inspired me to remain detailed in my artwork despite the time constraint. Formerly an art therapist, Penny’s words encouraged me to remain authentic in style too. The experienced curator advises aspiring artists to follow their hearts even if it sounds cliched.
She says, “I became an art therapist because when I was younger, being a self-employed artist could not have sustained my living entirely as I wanted to create art freely and not cater to the market.” Penny says that the trade-off for her was to enter another profession and now after all these years she is finally getting paid to make what she truly desires as an artist.
" You can't sell experience
Penny Hallas

The dream or money?
Penny also said that once a person at her art exhibition told her that if she wasn’t selling then she wasn’t a real artist. The painter says, “What about performance, you can’t sell experience. For instance, if I want to take people on a walk as an artistic experience to show them the things that I see when I’m doing the artwork, you can’t monetise that experience.”
Recently, I spoke to a 42-year-old graphic designer from Lisbon, Catia Bart, who is now working for Condé Nast after switching careers from being a flight attendant to an illustrator during the pandemic. She says, “I became a flight attendant as the job allowed me to travel, pay my bills and develop a parallel artistic career at the same time. Although, I ended up not having much time but making digital illustrations was my way of meeting creativity.”
Catia says that being a professional digital illustrator does not sustain her financially yet as she entered the industry recently. She has an 11-year-old daughter so to make ends meet, the illustrator has side jobs in graphic design, fashion, patterned surfaces and design.
This brought me back to my enthusiasm for digital illustrations. I occasionally make vector illustrations on Adobe fresco’s basic free version which is cost-efficient. Though, a large amount of investment in proper equipment like an Ipad with an Apple pencil or a tablet with a pen function may be required to go digital unless you are tech-savvy and can do it on any computer, in my opinion.
The biggest challenge was estimating the budget for art equipment. The costs are higher compared to digital as new non-electronic supplies like paints and canvases will be required for this project. My budget was £50 originally but the costs went up to £90 as the idea evolved from making one painting to making a minimum of four paintings for an exhibition. The cost of the canvases was £40 approximately after the discounts and the rest were acrylic colours and a satin varnish to layer the painting with protection.
Financial troubles are always hovering over the minds of the artists because art supplies are not cheap and there is no guarantee of the paintings being sold. Therefore, artists cannot depend their livelihood on an unpredictable income. That does not stop them from doing what they are passionate about because art is their way of living. Penny also said, “Money comes into it for sure because we need to earn a living, we need to be treated fairly and given a proper wage for what we do but money can’t be the whole story.”

Costly equipment
Costly equipment


Envisioning to exhibiting
While sorting my finances took a while, I began the actual work needed to exhibit my work. I knew the star of the show had to be my mother, Pooja Dua. She has always inspired me from finding happiness in the darkest of times to always nagging me with her ayurvedic DIY solutions. Growing up, fashion and art were interlinked for my mom and cooking was the soul of the house. The painting had to have vibrant and contrasting shades and the outfit should not only reflect my Indian heritage and should have a fashionable impact on the painting. It took two weeks to complete the painting, ten days of which were devoted to detail and design. I chose to make mandala circular designs on the ethnic suit my mother wears in sage green and pink.
The second painting was inspired by an old photograph of mine holding a Lotus when I was four-year-old, captured by my father, Kamal Dua. I experimented with gold acrylic paint to make some elements stand out. This painting when placed next to the first main painting, the child is meant to look up to the mother literally and figuratively.

Childhood Photograph that inspired the painting. Credit: Shubhangi Dua
Childhood Photograph that inspired the painting. Credit: Shubhangi Dua



Finished!
Finished!


The holy fire
The holy fire

Last painting
Last painting


Goal Achieved!
Goal Achieved!
For the next artwork, I decided to paint, the holy fire known as Havan. Since I was a baby, my parents would organise prayers and invite priests to lead the ceremony. Fire is a main element of worship in Hindu culture where the ancient ritual is performed to honour the deities and begin something new.
The final painting is a hand with henna design. The hand is raised up and positioned in the form of a dance hand movement called ‘Pataka’ in Bharatnatyam, an Indian classical dance form. Pataka mudra (gesture) is when all five fingers are held together with the thumb slightly bent, it means to provide blessings. I chose to paint this gesture as a way to bless my first exhibition.
I suppose the blessings worked, with World Art Day just around the corner, I executed a mock exhibition at Umbrella Art Collective in Cardiff Capitol in the city centre. Although this was only a mock exhibit, I am currently in talks with gallery owner, Alice to feature my artwork in Umbrella's next painting exhibition in the summer of this year. Fulfilling my childhood aspirations this past month made me nostalgic and ecstatic at the same time. My paintings may not be in the public’s eye yet but I achieved the goal. Now, I can confidently call myself a professional artist.