I am a Birmingham-based artist whose work explores spiritual and emotional landscapes through fluid forms and layered textures. Through my paintings, I seek to express feelings and inner states that words cannot easily convey. I developed my practice through studying Fine Art, where I began to explore the interplay of texture, movement, and the sense of presence in painting. 

Breaking the Frame: Art, Emotion, and Connection By Ernesto Artig As an abstract artist, I work from the inside out. My process is intuitive, raw, and rooted in emotional truth. Each painting begins as a conversation—between parts of myself, between tension and release, between what’s visible and what’s felt. I use mixed media to layer meaning and texture, letting each piece evolve organically until it speaks with its own voice. But for me, the art experience shouldn’t stop at the canvas. That’s why I founded the Connecting Conditional Art Movement (CCAM). What is the Connecting Conditional Art Movement (CCAM)? CCAM is a response to how disconnected the art world—and often the world itself—can feel. At its core, it’s about creating emotional bridges between people through the artwork they collect. Each piece within CCAM exists in dialogue with a counterpart. When a collector acquires one of these works, they agree to share their contact details with the buyer of its companion piece. In doing so, they become part of a living network—a community connected not just by ownership, but by shared resonance. This movement invites us to look at art not as a commodity, but as a conduit. A spark. A starting point for something more human. Below are four examples of paintings that are part of the CCAM. Each one holds its own emotional and visual language, but also reaches outward—toward its counterpart, and toward you.  If you’re an artist who feels aligned with the ethos of the Connecting Conditional Art Movement and would like to contribute your own paired works, I invite you to get in touch. You can reach me at hello@ernestoartig.com .

In the vibrant and ever-evolving landscape of Ghanaian contemporary art, Ahmed Partey stands out as a visionary whose work offers a profound meditation on ancestry, identity, and transformation. Based in Accra, Partey’s practice spans painting, pastel, sculpture, wood carving, and immersive digital technologies—including virtual and augmented reality. At the center of it all is a guiding philosophy he calls Afro-Ancestral Spiritualism: a worldview that reimagines West African spiritual heritage through a symbolic, surrealist lens. Rooted in Ritual, Reaching Toward the Unseen Partey’s work emerges from deep engagement with traditional African visual systems—particularly Ga Samai, a sacred symbolic language of the Ga-Adangbe people of Ghana. Since 2017, he has expanded this lexicon from 30 to nearly 100 symbols, breathing life into what he calls “speechless voices”—nonverbal forms that transmit ancestral wisdom across generations. His figures are elongated, mask-like, and rendered in charged states of stillness or transformation—guardians of memory who exist somewhere between the spiritual and the surreal. These figures are not portraits, but vessels: containers of emotion, myth, and psychic memory. His compositions, shaped by Ghanaian cosmologies and folklore, collapse time and space.

Elitza, you‘ve been working as a photographer in Berlin for some time. You were born and raised in Bulgaria. You studied art and cultural studies at Berlin‘s Humboldt University and later worked for a long time as a graphic designer. It doesn‘t sound like a straightforward path. Have images always been important to you? Images have accompanied me my entire life. I was fortunate enough to grow up in an art- loving house in Sofia, where – despite the socialist economy of scarcity – there were art albums, books, and conversations about art. As an art history student in Berlin, I learned to analyse images. As a graphic designer, I had to interact with other people‘s photos and my own. As a photographer, I often find myself standing in front of my many photos and have to make a selection, evaluate them, and choose the best ones. When did you discover photography? I took my first course at the adult education centre in Berlin at the age of 18 and then set up a lab for analogue black-and-white photography. Unfortunately, photography remained only latent in my life for a long time. I can‘t describe it, but somehow I was afraid to fully im- merse myself in it. During my studies, I pursued it as a hobby, then as a freelance journalist, I illustrated my newspaper articles with my photos, later – as a graphic designer – I used my photos in projects, and finally, I enjoyed documenting my children‘s development… but for a long time, I couldn‘t fully commit to photography. That changed when I started dancing at the age of 40. Through dance, many blockages disappeared, and many dormant life projects emerged. Personal contact with dancers and participating in their work also inspired me to intensify photography. It was clear to me that at my age, I wouldn‘t reach great heights as a dancer, but that I could certainly live out my fascination for dance and movement through the camera. I developed my skills in dance photography and experimented with a wide variety of photographic techniques. After my first exhibition, "Fascination Movement," in 2020, I was confronted with the question of whether I wanted to continue practicing photography as a craft or work more artistically. Well, the latter is more my style. Why did you choose photography as a medium of expression? My mind was always full of images. Even as a child, I spent long evenings in bed with my eyes closed, imagining, producing images, and arranging the world the way I wanted it to be. I also loved painting and drawing, but I‘m very impatient and need a faster medium to realize my ideas. In addition, I‘m particularly interested in fragile and fleeting states, such as movement, water, and lighting. With a camera, I can give permanence to the ephemeral. I believe, if you approach the topic from a depth psychological perspective, photography was a remedy for a great fear of loss within me. This fear arose when I came to Berlin in the 1980s, when an entire world—Bulgaria—was lost to me. But the universal human fear of our transience also plays a role here. For me, the camera is a kind of magic wand that allows me to control time and, if I wish, stop it. In my exhibition "Time - Structure“ (2024), I illustrated this phenomenon using motion photography – with short exposure times, I freeze time; with long exposures, I show the traces of movement and duration; with multiple exposures, I demonstrate simultaneity; and with stroboscopic effect photography, I dissect the moment into fragments and capture them in a single image. I accept the challenge of depicting movement and allowing it to continue to have an impact through a static medium like photography. Nevertheless, the fear of loss and transience is not the only driving and determining factor in my photography. It is also a great joy to capture transformations and changes. In my series „Berlin as a Water Reflection,“ I photograph the "eternal“ buildings on the Spree—the palace, the cathedral, the Pergamon Museum, etc.—in diverse variations and appearances as transient water reflections. And in dance images, such as "In the Flow of Time,“ I capture traces of movement—unique moments that no one else has seen or can see.

What theme do you feel runs like a red thread through all of your work? 
It’s hard to single out just one, but at the core is definitely my desire to show the world in all its forms — as I see it. Through light, through movement, through rhythm. I want to express what matters to me at a given moment, my constant fascination with people, nature, and the city I live in. Sometimes circumstances push me to reflect philosophically. That’s when more unexpected pieces emerge, even for me. This year I’ve been focused on nature — painting the subjects I love most: animals and the natural world. So, would you say that a deep love of life is your driving force? 
Yes, I really believe people should strive for constant growth — and for that, you need a positive direction. Of course, it’s not possible to always be in high spirits, but keeping your thoughts on an optimistic track helps move forward. Inspiration fuels the creative process, but success also requires discipline and hard work. Do you work in bursts or to a schedule, even when the muse is silent? 
I just start painting, thinking, working. Inspiration comes during the process — and my muse is always there. Sometimes quiet, but always present. I’m a very hard-working person. I don’t need much sleep, and art gives me energy. Exhibiting and creating recharge me, like I’ve added more hours to the day. Artists, like musicians, need daily practice — like vocal warm-ups for singers. When inspiration and the right emotional mood align, the result is something truly special, and the viewer can feel that surge in the work.
At art school, we were taught that after finishing a major piece, you should grab a small canvas and do a quick sketch. The difference between the two is striking — the first is calculated, the second pure emotion. Your colour palette is full of life — that’s immediately noticeable. 
I do love vibrant colours. I’ve tried working in more muted, monochrome tones, but they don’t give me the same thrill once finished — they don’t stir strong emotions. That’s why I’m not fond of watercolour. It feels too subdued, lacking in energy. I want an explosion of colour and emotion. A painting should make you want to hang it on your wall — to bring joy and positive energy into the space.
I create for people who are drawn to beauty. It’s important to me that my art feels relatable, something people connect with — not just a future investment in a promising artist, but something personal. Maybe that’s how my inner rebellious streak comes out in my work. Sometimes I’ll start a loose, expressive underpainting and love it so much it feels like a shame to tidy it up. You’ve taken part in numerous exhibitions in the UK, including solo shows. What are your goals as an artist moving forward? I’d like to exhibit more often not only in the UK but also across Europe and the US — ideally joining smaller themed exhibitions every six months, and holding solo shows every couple of years. I’m also planning to launch my own art project where fellow artists and I will create themed works across various media and styles, and host large-scale collaborative events. I love engaging with people and inviting them into the creative process. So you're hoping to take on the role of curator? To organise and shape the project yourself? 
Exactly — to develop the theme, write the concept, and produce a catalogue. It could include small sculptures, mosaics — we could bring in artists from different disciplines through open calls. And it would be amazing to take the project on tour around the country!

My name is Luis Pedro Picasso. I have been a graphic designer, illustrator since my childhood, and painter. Before commencing my studies, at the tender age of 8, I began my journey into the art world, creating illustrations with graphite pencil. After completing high school, I pursued my studies in graphic design at Instituto Bios in Montevideo, Uruguay, and I graduated at the age of 23. My enthusiasm for art and drawing has driven me to continuously refine my skills across various techniques. In April 2020, at the onset of the pandemic, I began taking painting classes. This opportunity allowed me to cultivate a unique style free from any external theoretical influences. I started drawing on the knowledge I had amassed over the years, crafting my own unique style and approach to painting. Life serves as our greatest teacher and mentor; our experiences form the foundation of our skills, while those around us and our cherished ones are our primary sources of inspiration. 

Meng Li is a London-based contemporary artist and printmaker originally from China. She graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Visual Communication Design from Sichuan University and is currently pursuing an MA in Printmaking at the University of the Arts London. Her practice explores the relationship between life and existence through inanimate objects, examining themes such as the boundaries between object and subject and the interplay between human society and the natural environment. 

My name is Haru Mihoko and I am a painter currently working in Japan. I have loved drawing since I was a child and studied fine art and graphic design in my student days. After that, I continued to draw freelance, doing illustration work and illustrated packaging design for souvenir sweets, and now I am mainly working on creating paintings. I mainly use mixed media techniques to create beautiful landscapes, women's paintings, abstract art, etc. in delicate colors. 

I am Anna (Anouk) Schmidt, currently living and working in the western region of Hungary as an illustrator.  My connection with drawing dates back to my childhood. A master painter introduced me to the world of applied arts from the age of 6, who had accompanied my journey for more than a decade later on. The current form of Anouk Arts represents the natural intuitive experience of childhood for me, where the perception of space, time and physical attributes ceases in the process of creation. My main topics are the relationship between nature and humans in the realm beyond the known world. The passage between the worlds is represented by symbolism, with the feeling of memories which never have happened. I am greatly influenced by nature and the living flora and fauna, constellations, mysticism, Eastern philosophies, the art of music and cinema. I am also inspired by the artists of the spiritual culture that emerged in the 60s and 70s, highlighting some of them, such as Carlos Castaneda, Syd Mead, Bruce Davidson, Hiro Isonoo, Henryk Płóciennik.