I was destined to endure the commercial world to then feel the joy of the giving world.
In all honesty, I always thought that as a child, when I discovered that I had a gift and talent in creating visuals, painting, and creating things that made others think and feel something, I always sensed that it was going to be used for good, for positive things.
However, the harsh world of commercial art with its dead-end paths, unsupportive agents and no real route to success, that feeling of it being a vessel for good was impossible to fathom, until the awareness that money, art and experience were guided by the one energy, mine.
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Ever since I was young, I was given opportunities to be part of the youth club at the local church and at the Hindu temple near where I lived. In both of those spaces, whenever I took part in creative activities or simply socialised, I was often asked by the group leaders to create artwork that could be used for event posters or fundraising efforts. So, from the age of seven, I was already creating art with the understanding that it was helping and supporting certain causes, initiatives, or community activities in some way.
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Later in life, as I was developing my creative skills, I began to notice how rarely art was used to support social causes. I had many family members who worked as counsellors, social workers, and carers, and they were always under-resourced. Their fundraisers were almost always centred around donations or local events, with very little creative input.
It wasn’t until I turned 21 that I came across a newspaper story about an artwork that had been donated to a charity, which ended up saving the organisation from closure. That one donation sustained them for the next 10 years. It was then that I truly began to understand the power art could have—not just to express or communicate, but to fund, to fuel, and to sustain real impact.
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In the early stages of my creative career, I was rarely asked to contribute. Charities didn’t approach me in those days, especially while I was navigating the shift from fine art to digital media. But rather than waiting for an invitation, I chose to immerse myself in the world around me. I attended events, explored new spaces, and sought out organisations that were just beginning to form—charities on the cusp of launching their missions.
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I found myself in community centres across the UK, particularly in London, where I met the leaders of emerging movements, people at the helm of initiatives, and those working in media. I built lasting relationships with hundreds of individuals—many of whom deeply inspired me. As their projects evolved, they began inviting me to shape their visual identities, commissioning me to design their branding or create artwork that embodied who they were and what they stood for. Looking back, that was the beginning of something meaningful. Something beautiful.
I loved every minute of it, even though it was incredibly challenging to create work that captured an idea or concept powerful enough to support another human being, whether they were on the other side of the world or simply across the city. It is a significant responsibility because the work has to connect, it has to stir emotion, and it has to resonate on a deeper level.
The organisations and individuals I came to know during that time genuinely respected my creativity. They trusted in my ability to produce artwork that embodied their principles, reflected their values, and expressed the essence of what they were trying to achieve. And I did not let them down. In fact, I exceeded expectations. Even I was surprised at how naturally and intuitively I could translate their missions into visual language. This gave me the confidence to put my name forward and to become more visible in spaces where charities, organisations, NGOs, and community leaders were gathering. Some were overseeing ten people, others fifty or even a hundred. I would offer my services freely, especially in the early days, using platforms like Facebook. I shared my artwork in digital portfolios and emailed it to thousands of charities around the world.
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Over a period of eight years, I received between two hundred to three hundred requests each year to create artwork. I could not fulfil every one of them. I simply did not have the time, and I was also focused on developing my own business and creative practice. But what I did manage to do was dedicate many of my evenings after work to exploring ideas and drafting designs. I would often send these across, whether they were fully finished or still in the early stages. My intention was to offer something meaningful, to give them a glimpse of what had come through my imagination based on who they were and what they stood for.
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My process was intuitive. I would begin by learning about the organisation, immersing myself in their story. Then I would close my eyes and imagine being with the people involved, feeling into their world. I sought out as much information as possible so I could enter it emotionally, spiritually, and viscerally. I would try to see it all from their point of view, to empathise fully, and from that place I would begin creating.
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The goal was always to produce artwork that made others feel like they were looking at themselves, to awaken connection and empathy. But I also wanted the work to carry something more. I wanted it to be infused with beauty, love, wonder, and a sense of magic—so it could draw people in, guide them toward the message, and perhaps even inspire them to respond with a meaningful action of their own.
Over the course of my life I have created around one thousand pieces of artwork and visual concepts for companies, organisations, and community groups. Some of those creations became large-scale poster campaigns. Others were integrated into brand identities. And many, I honestly do not know what became of them. I did not have the support or infrastructure in place to manage those relationships. I would simply send the work, unsure of whether it was ever used. My role was to imagine what I felt, to create what I believed could help, and to offer it freely.
To be able to create imagery that defines or represents a charity or movement is a true honour. For me, this is the essence of being an artist. Beyond the commercial aspects, beyond the recognition or platforms, the heart of the work lies in contribution. We are here to serve. To be vessels through which something meaningful can come into the world. To help others see, feel, understand, and act.
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This has been one of the most important dimensions of my creative life.
And as I evolve beyond the act of making art itself, I hope to dedicate a significant part of my journey to donating work or building an ecosystem where artists are supported and commissioned to give. To offer beauty and clarity where it is most needed. To bring light into the lives of those who need it most.
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That would be my ultimate dream.
