Swiss Art Expo 2026: Keel, Looking Forward & Little Rabbit
This September, three of my art pieces: Keel (2023), Looking Forward (2022), and Little Rabbit (2022) are heading to Swiss Art Expo’s digital displays in the SBB Event Hall at Zürich Hauptbahnhof, running September 2–6. It's one of Europe's biggest art exhibitions, and it does something I actually like: instead of tucking the work away in some remote fair hall, it puts it right in the middle of a train station 80,000 people pass through every day.
All three pieces will be showing 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 Swiss Art Expo
Keel (2023) 186 EUR
Artwork size: 70.0 Length x 52.5 Width x 0.03 Height cm
Keel, a photograph taken by me, capturing a wrecked boat's timber frame half-buried among mossy rocks. This piece details a shipwreck's remains on Hunstanton Beach, inspired by the blurred line between manmade ruin and the natural world reclaiming it.
I took this on Hunstanton Beach, UK. In the photograph, there are the remains of a wrecked boat keel, fractured and exposed among the jagged boulders. The rocks run in their own quiet, organic lines, but sitting inside them is something unmistakably human: the linear skeleton of the keel, stripped bare by sea and time.
Half-buried in sand and stone, it hovers somewhere between belonging and alienation. This was once the core of something built for movement, for purpose. Now it just rests, its wooden form nearly swallowed back into the geology around it. I like that, the way it blurs the line between manmade and organic, between ruin and integration. The sky sat heavy with cloud that day, muted, which only deepened the weight of what's been lost and what's still hanging on.
When I look at this piece, I think about how fragile and stubborn things can be at the same time. I think about how identity and transformation work the same way, how we're all searching for our place in a world affected by forces so much bigger than us. Can something built ever really return to nature? Or does it stay a trace of human intention, embedded in the landscape but always slightly apart from it? I don't have an answer. I just keep photographing the question.
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.
Art of 100
Looking Forward (2022) was also selected to feature in Collage 3 of the Swiss Art Expo’s Art of 100
“ART OF 100 brings together artists from all over the world on a single surface. A hundred works form one collage, shown at the SWISSARTEXPO in Zurich main station.
The layout grows out of the works themselves: their proportions decide how they fit into one another. That is why the fields differ in size, and why no work has to be cropped to fit.” - Artboxy