This journal marks my return to art after four decades — a quiet rediscovery of colours, textures, and memories long asleep.
Each piece began with hesitation, yet grew into something honest and alive, a salvaged bouquet, a forgotten landscape, a child’s smile, and the soft glimmer of pastel dust catching morning light.
I call them my collection of firsts — because every brushstroke, even the imperfect ones, led me back to myself. Art, like life, is always unfinished — evolving, touched again and again by the hands that refuse to stop creating.
What began as a quiet experiment became a rediscovery of creativity — proof that even with humble materials and small beginnings, art always finds its way back to life.
Every painting here is a story, a memory, a quiet reflection. They continue to evolve with little touch-ups along the way — because, like life itself, my art is always a work in progress.
Golden Threads of Dreams
Inspired by my youngest son’s long-lost school drawing, I wanted to reimagine his childhood sketch not exactly as it was, but as I remember it — full of bright colours and swirls just like a vivid dream.
Using acrylic markers and metallic gel pens, I played with batik-style lines — intentionally misaligned, as if tracing the carefree rhythm of childhood — imperfect yet alive, much like memories themselves. Metallic gold and silver shimmer along the snake tails, a nod to the Year of the Snake, 2025 — symbolising renewal and the quiet strength of growing up. Perhaps it isn’t just a painting, but a memory stitched in light — a mother’s way of holding on, while still letting the child within play freely.
And so it begins — not with perfection, but with play. A rediscovery of colour, line, and pure Innocence… the quiet joy of seeing the world again through a child’s eyes. It’s a small tribute to my son’s creativity, and to that playful spirit we both share — always dreaming, always drawing.
Medium: Acrylic markers, metallic gold, silver and white highlighters, and a bit of oil pastels for texture.
Cuphea Through My Lens
This is purely an experimental study of the cuphea flower, magnified to the point of abstraction.
The bokeh background was a challenge — painstakingly retouched with cotton buds. You can’t easily identify the bloom, and that’s the beauty of seeing nature through one’s own lens.
Materials: Colour pencils, acrylic markers, highlighters, soft oil pastels
Process: Layering for depth, pastel blending for blurred background, cotton-bud technique for fine transitions
Wilderness of Kampar's Blue Hills
“Wilderness of Kampar’s Blue Hills” is both a memory and a meditation — a reminder that beauty endures, even in forgotten places.
This piece was inspired by a quiet, unkempt parcel of land I chanced upon during a morning stroll in Kampar, Perak. Once part of the old mining grounds, it now lies within an education hub where university hostels rise nearby — a small remnant of wilderness amidst new beginnings.
What caught my eye was its stillness — dry grasses, sandy earth, and the distant blue hills resting under the soft morning light. Even the dried branches, standing quietly against the breeze, seemed alive in their serenity — not dying, but breathing a gentle whisper of air into the open space. There was a sense of nothingness in that view — not emptiness, but peace. Like a Zen story told without words, it was simply there: quiet, unassuming, and whole in its own way.
I wanted to capture that calm resilience, the quiet conversation between the land and time. Through gentle layers of pastel, I sought to blend the colours as the hills fade into the horizon — a moment of reflection on how nature endures, quietly reclaiming what was once its own.
Medium: Soft oil pastel on 135gsm art paper
Materials: Colour pencils, acrylic markers, highlighters, oil pastels and chalk
Process: Layered blending with fingers for soft transitions
Come Play With Me
This is my first portrait — of my 4 year old granddaughter depicting the golden moment as a butterfly landed on her shoulder. The background, reminiscent of Van Gogh’s swirling skies, reflects her bright curiosity and the gentle chaos of childhood. This painting is my gift to Mabel — a moment of wonder, caught between a fluttering butterfly and her joyful, innocent smile. She reminded me that beauty often lives in stillness, in soft colours and simple joy.
Working with pastels on skin tones proved both a skill and a challenge. I spent hours layering, scraping, and reworking the surface to create the feel of sunlight on flushed skin. Each adjustment left its trace — smudges, fingerprints, the quiet evidence of persistence. In the end, these imperfections became part of her story — alive, tender, and real.
As I was painting, I was thinking of how fleeting childhood can be — yet how love, once given, stays forever. May she always carry the lightness of that butterfly in her heart, even as she grows and finds her own colours in the world.
Medium: Soft oil pastels, colour pencils, acrylic markers
After The Rain
"My first landscape in color pencil... Not perfect, but a true reflection of how I once saw the world — calm, after the rain."
I wanted to capture the iconic replica of the Sydney Bridge at the Kinta Riverwalk in Ipoh, where I used to take leisurely walks. The reflection after the rain felt magical. I loved seeing the world’s quiet poetry."that beauty is found in the everyday, even in a puddle after the rain."
Materials: Colour pencil on mixed media
Process: Layered pencil work with gentle burnishing; reflective highlights using simple blending tools
Bouquet of Celebrations
Description: A study of gentle blooms in natural light.
The inspiration came from a discarded convocation bouquet left behind by my room tenant after his graduation. Moved by its quiet beauty, I decided to preserve it through paint — a celebration of moments often forgotten once the excitement fades.
I layered soft pastels to build translucent depth, letting the colours blend like petals opening in slow motion. Through this process, I explored creating watercolour-like softness — a reflection of gentle joy, memory, and second chances.
Medium: Soft oil pastels on medium texture paper
I’m often asked when I’ll be finished. Maybe the truth is, I never really am.
Every piece takes time — not just in layers of paint, but in quiet reflection until it finally pleases my eye. That patience is what makes each work a true part of my journey.
Signed prints are available, and select designs may soon find new life as limited-edition keepsakes — a way for my art to travel further.
Scan the QR code to explore or reserve one that speaks to you.
P.S. — Thank you for sharing this moment in time with me. The journey continues....