ArtBoxy at Carrousel du Louvre in Paris 2026: Little Rabbit, Looking Forward & Path to Freedom
This September, three of my art pieces: Little Rabbit (2022), Looking Forward (2022), and Path to Freedom (2023) are heading to Artboxy’s digital displays in the Carrousel du Louvre in Paris, running from 23rd October 2026 to 25th October 2026.
All three pieces will be shown on digital displays throughout the exhibition, each with a QR code alongside it if you want to buy on the spot, or you can grab them anytime through Artboxy.
About the Artwork on Display at Carrousel du Louvre
Little Rabbit (2022) 186 EUR
Artwork size: 84.1 Length x 59.49 Width x 0.03 Height cm
Little Rabbit, a digital painting created by me with soft colours and a gentle, quiet composition. This piece captures a child holding onto a stuffed rabbit as a lifeline, inspired by tenderness that survives hardship.
The figure is rendered as a clean vertical split between warm gold and cool blue-grey, essentially two lightings or two halves of the same body sharing one frame. Both she and the rabbit are drawn with flat cel-shaded colour and clean linework, minimal internal gradient blending, which sets them apart from the painterly, textured background behind them.
I painted a child who's already been through more than they should have had to, holding onto the one thing that's still soft in a world that hasn't been. Their rabbit. Not a toy in this piece, a lifeline. The kind of small, stubborn thing you hold onto when everything else has taught you not to trust.
I wanted this one to be quiet. Gentle, even. Not every piece I make has to be a fight; sometimes what's left after hardship is just tenderness, still there, still holding on. That felt worth painting too.
Looking Forward (2022) 93 EUR
Artwork size: 84.1 Length x 59.49 Width x 0.03 Height cm
Looking Forward is a digital painting I created, with muted tones broken by a single vivid blue butterfly. This piece captures a figure rising out of shadow mid-gaze, inspired by what hope actually looks like while living with depression.
The skin tones on the face and neck are built up in soft, layered gradients, a textured digital brush rather than a flat airbrush, so the surface holds a visible, almost hand-worked quality. The whole piece leans on chiaroscuro: strong contrast between the near-black background and the lit profile, with the face modeled almost entirely through light and shadow rather than line. The hair breaks that softness deliberately, built from many fine, individual strokes instead of blended masses, giving it a woodcut or scratchboard-like texture against the smoothness of the skin.
I painted this one during a period where hope didn't come easily. On the right, a figure rises out of shadow, caught mid-gaze, looking toward something they can't quite reach yet. I kept the tones muted on purpose because that's what depression actually feels like most of the time: not dramatic, just heavy and muted.
Against that, I placed a vivid blue butterfly. It's not a light, easy symbol here. It carries weight as much as it carries hope. The butterfly is fragile and easy to miss, but still there and still moving. That's what hope during depression actually looks like, in my experience. Not a switch flipping. Just something small refusing to disappear completely.
I wanted this piece to sit quietly rather than resolve neatly. No before-and-after, no fixed moment of "better." Just a figure looking forward, and a butterfly that hasn't given up on getting there either.
Path to Freedom (2023) 186 EUR
Artwork size: 70 Length x 52.5 Width x 0.03 Height cm
Path To Freedom, a photograph taken by me with a low-angle shot filling the foreground with wild grass beneath a soft, boundless sky. This piece captures a winding path through the Peak District, inspired by land that refuses to be tidy or easily categorised. This is a winding path cutting through the rugged hilltops of the Peak District, UK. I shot it low, letting the foreground fill with untamed wild grass, every blade reaching toward something untethered whilst leading the eye out toward an open, boundless sky. The natural light caught the layered texture of wet peat and the land's own contours, the kind that only come from time, erosion, renewal. Nothing about this terrain is tidy. It doesn't ask to be. It holds space for what refuses to fit into simple categories, and so do I. Further out, pastel tones blur the edges of the sky, softening everything into a space where contradiction and harmony can sit next to each other without one cancelling the other out. The path doesn't guide you. It invites you into asking your own questions rather than handing you the answers. This isn't just a quiet landscape. It's a reckoning. A way of thinking about movement, memory, and identity by following the land's own language instead of the order we've been told to impose on it. An embodied connection to earth and self. An invitation by Mother Nature for us all to take the path to freedom.
