We recently connected with Leah Han and have shared our conversation below.

Leah, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Do you wish you had waited to pursue your creative career or do you wish you had started sooner?

Looking back, there was a time when I felt I had started my creative career “late.” After graduating with a fashion design degree, I originally planned to continue my studies in France, But being young, unsure about life, and , ike many people at that age ,influenced by emotional confusion and a relationship that didn’t truly belong to my path, I made decisions from emotion rather than clarity. I stayed in my hometown, opened an art studio, and focused on teaching drawing. The art studio grew successfully , but it became more like managing a business than creating art. I slowly realized that although I was good at running it, it didn’t nourish me. I wasn’t expressing myself, I wasn’t growing creatively, and I wasn’t being challenged.
By 2020, after the age of thirty, I completely shifted my life and finally committed to a full-time creative career. For a while, I regretted not doing it earlier. I felt I had missed my “best years,” especially when I compared myself to people who studied abroad in their twenties. It felt like I had taken the long, wrong road.
But once I truly stepped into illustration and found my language — the emotional storytelling, the feminine solitude, the atmosphere I create . I understood something important: I couldn’t have done this at twenty. Back then, I wasn’t resilient, focused, or mature enough. I didn’t yet understand what I wanted, what I didn’t want, or what kind of life felt true to me. My years running the studio, feeling stuck, and realizing what didn’t fit me were necessary. They taught me discipline, independence, responsibility, and a deep appreciation for creative freedom.
So now, I don’t wish I started sooner or later. I feel I started exactly when I was ready — when I had lived enough to know myself, to commit to my art with clarity, and to handle the emotional and practical realities of being an artist. Everything before this gave me the patience, humility, steadiness, and gratitude I bring into my career today.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I’m an illustrator currently living between Berlin and Chengdu. I’ve been drawing since I was four years old, studied fashion design, and eventually shifted fully into illustration in 2020. That transition marked the moment I finally committed to a creative path that feels emotionally honest and truly my own.

My work is predominantly created digitally, blended with hand-drawn textures and sensitivity. Whenever time allows, I also work with traditional media as part of my personal practice, which helps me stay grounded in tactile, imperfect expression. Conceptually, my illustrations explore a woman’s inner emotional world — her subjectivity, her introspection, and the quiet strength that comes from learning to live well with herself. To me, solitude is not loneliness; it is a space where self-acceptance grows. Whether a woman is alone or moving through the world, I want to portray her as grounded, reflective, and deeply connected to her inner landscape.

Professionally, I work across editorial, branding, fashion, beauty, lifestyle, and product collaborations. What my clients value most is the emotional quality of my work — the softness, atmosphere, and the way it can communicate feeling without words. I approach every collaboration with empathy, trying to understand not only what a brand wants to express, but also how their audience should feel when they encounter the artwork. When you translate emotion visually in a way that resonates with a brand’s identity and speaks directly to their target audience, the work becomes more than an image — it becomes a bridge of understanding, a visual language that strengthens connection.

What sets my practice apart is this combination of emotional sensitivity, storytelling, and a cross-cultural perspective shaped by living between China and Germany. I’m deeply proud of building a career that reflects who I truly am, and of creating illustrations that feel like poetic emotional spaces rather than just pictures. For future collaborators, I hope they know: I create with intention, I care about feeling, and I always bring empathy into every stage of the work.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

For me, the most rewarding part of being an artist is the ability to live and work in complete alignment with my inner world. Even though I often work commercially as an illustrator, once your artistic language is strong enough, the clients who come to you are naturally those who resonate with your expression. So even in client work, you’re not changing your identity ，you’re extending it. You’re still speaking through the same emotional and visual vocabulary that belongs to you.

Creating art also forces me to stay deeply connected to myself. I spend a lot of time alone, reflecting on what feels true, what feels wrong, what I desire, and what I should let go of. This inner clarity gradually shapes both my work and my personal path. In many ways, developing my art is the same as developing my sense of self ，they grow together, inform each other, and help me understand who I am becoming.

I’ve seen many people spend their whole lives working jobs they don’t love, moving through routines without ever asking what their soul truly wants. Society teaches us to chase achievement, stability, and approval, but often at the cost of our inner voice. As an artist, I feel grateful that I’m able to pause, observe myself honestly, and build a life that reflects my emotional truth. That solitude and self-awareness feel like a quiet form of freedom.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I believe the most fundamental support begins with education. Society needs to understand that art is not a luxury ，it is a core part of human civilization. From ancient cave paintings to classical music and literature, everything we proudly preserve as “human heritage” is art. It tells us who we are, where we come from, and what we value. Without art, we lose a part of our humanity.

Today, especially with the rise of AI, it has become even more important to educate the public about the irreplaceable nature of human creativity. AI can mimic visuals, but it cannot embody lived experience, emotional sensitivity, cultural memory, or the inner life of a person. Art is not just an output — it is a result of someone thinking, suffering, dreaming, observing, and evolving. Society needs more platforms, programs, and educational outreach that help people understand why human-made art matters, and why it should be preserved and supported.

Another essential pillar is financial support. Artists need time and mental space to develop their voice, experiment, fail, and grow — and this often cannot happen under financial pressure. Grants, residencies, government funding, and fair compensation systems are crucial. When society truly values art, it shows through how it chooses to invest in it.

And finally, clients and consumers play a major role. If we want a thriving creative ecosystem, people must be willing to pay for human creativity. Fair budgets, respectful collaboration, and trust in the artist’s vision make a huge difference. Supporting artists financially is not just a transaction — it is a decision to keep human culture alive. Because if society reaches a point where human art is undervalued or replaced entirely, that would be a cultural tragedy.

In short, society supports artists by understanding the value of art, creating opportunities for its growth, and ensuring that artists can sustain their practice with dignity. When artists thrive, culture thrives.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.leahhan.art/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/leah.hanhan/
• Linkedin: http://linkedin.com/in/leahhanillustration

Image Credits

Leah Han