We were lucky to catch up with Alicia Han recently and have shared our conversation below.
Alicia, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?
I think I knew, in some instinctive way, when I was still in kindergarten.
One day, our teacher handed out coloring pages and crayons. Most of the children scribbled freely, and their colors spilled beyond the lines. But I—without knowing why—carefully stayed within the edges. I wasn’t trying to be perfect. I just found it comforting, even joyful, to bring color into the right shapes, to let an image slowly come to life.
Later, my teacher told my mother I had a talent.
And so, that little girl holding a crayon kept drawing—through margins of textbooks, art classes, and eventually, all the way into being an illustrator.
But the moment I truly chose to pursue a creative path came when I volunteered at a pediatric hospital in Shanghai. I sat beside young patients and quietly drew for them. Many were ill and exhausted, but as the pictures took shape—flowers, dragons, princesses—their faces slowly lit up.
In that quiet moment, I realized art could be more than a personal joy. It could be a gentle way to reach, to build connections, to tell stories. That experience stayed with me and reminded me that creating art isn’t just about beauty—it’s about finding my own voice and place in the world as an illustrator.
Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.
I’m an illustrator and painter from Shanghai, currently based in New York. I studied illustration at the School of Visual Arts and have worked across a variety of creative projects—from children’s books and editorial illustration to theater/film posters and gallery work. My practice centers around creating emotionally resonant, visually poetic images that explore themes of memory, vulnerability, and quiet transformation.
My work is a mix of the bizarre, gothic, childlike mischief, and a dash of eerie realism. I love experimenting with different mediums—acrylics, silkscreen printing, and digital art. Whether I’m creating a painting, an illustration for a story, or a personal piece, I treat each work as its own delicate world—intimate, textured, and quietly alive.
To anyone curious about my work, I hope you see not only the aesthetic, but also the intention and feeling behind it. I care deeply about emotional honesty in images, and I’m always exploring ways to tell soft but powerful stories. Whether it’s for a publication, a personal commission, or an exhibition, I bring sincerity, imagination, and a quiet sense of reverie. I hope my work can be a gentle space for others—where strangeness and softness coexist, and where quiet emotions are seen and held.
For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?
There are so many rewarding moments as an artist—it’s hard to choose just one.
Sometimes it’s simple things, like wearing a T-shirt I designed and silkscreen-printed, and being complimented by a stranger on the street. Or seeing my work published in magazines. Or the moment when a whole theater cast and crew gathered to sign their names on a poster I had designed, turning it from a piece of promotional material into a shared keepsake.
Other times, it’s bigger, surreal moments—like seeing my illustration displayed on a LinkNYC screen in the middle of New York City. Or the evening of an opening at A Space Gallery in Brooklyn, where I curated the show. Watching people walk through the space I helped shape, pausing in front of the artworks and engaging with the atmosphere.
What’s most rewarding to me is the feeling that something I created has left the studio and met the world and is doing something. Whether it’s brightening someone’s day, igniting a moment of thought, or simply existing in a corner of the city—that kind of subtle connection means everything to me. It makes me feel like I’m building something real, something that stays.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
In your view, what can society do to best support artists, creatives and an thriving creative ecosystem.
One of the most meaningful ways society can support artists is by recognizing the irreplaceable value of human-made work—especially in a time when AI-generated art is becoming more widespread. While AI can create things quickly and efficiently, much of what it produces is built upon years—decades—of collective artistic labor, style, and experimentation by human artists. It mimics without living the process.
True artistic work carries the warmth, contradictions, and emotional depth of lived experience. Human artists don’t just generate images—they reflect, remember, imagine, and feel. Their work is full of subtle imperfections, choices, and gestures that are shaped by their personal history and cultural context.
If more people understood this—if the public valued not just the finished image, but the process, the person, and the story behind it—then society would naturally move toward supporting more original, meaningful, and emotionally resonant art. This can mean anything from commissioning and collecting art, to advocating for fair pay, to simply sharing and amplifying the voices of emerging artists.
We don’t just need more art in the world—we need more space for artists to exist, create, and to have their efforts seen and valued.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://qhan3.myportfolio.com
- Instagram: @aliciaaaa_hqc
- Linkedin: http://linkedin.com/in/aliciahan