Bala Nair is a digital artist whose journey into art emerged from a unique path of self-discovery and personal growth. After two decades in product development, Bala took a step back to focus on his physical and mental well-being, finding inspiration through rigorous gym sessions and kickboxing, which reflect his passion for intense, dynamic disciplines. This period of transformation rekindled his childhood imagination — a resource he had long relied on, having grown up creating fantastical worlds from everyday objects. His inventive spirit, once responsible for turning straws into Wolverine claws and bottles into starships, found a new outlet in digital art.

This creative journey led to the birth of Art by Nair, a project that goes beyond displaying digital artwork – it’s a way to share narratives and bring his imaginative visions to life. For Bala, digital tools became a bridge between his technical skills and creativity, allowing him to translate his vision as a reflection of his journey toward self-improvement and creative fulfillment.

We asked Bala Nair about his art, creative process, and inspirations.

Can you tell us about your background as a digital artist? How did you get started in this field?

My journey into digital art isn’t the typical artist’s path. From a young age, around 9, I was captivated by comics and spent hours trying to recreate what I saw. I would practice relentlessly, sketching on art blocks that my dad bought for me, though my skills never seemed to improve, leading to frustration and even tears. Unfortunately, formal art classes weren’t an option as my family couldn’t afford them.

As I grew older, my love for comics persisted. I had vivid ideas and wanted to create stories in that world. At 17, after high school, I even pitched a storyline to Marvel Comics, though I never received a response. In my early 20s, during college, I discovered Adobe Flash and became fascinated by the ability to create animations. My first digital art project, albeit an embarrassing one, was a Flash animation website professing my love to my then-girlfriend. However, I had to leave college to support my family, which shifted my focus to responsibilities rather than creative pursuits.

Despite my career leading me into digital fields like web and application development, the spark for art never left. At 25, while working as an eCommerce analyst for an airline, I became friends with a creative director who became a mentor. He introduced me to the fundamentals of design, from the history of symbolism to typography. He taught me to look at the world through a designer’s lens, showing me how even everyday symbols, like those for male and female restrooms, have variations yet share a universal understanding. I also learned about color theory and its influence on human emotions, using examples like the traffic light system. This sparked my interest in UI/UX design and the critical role of functionality in aesthetics. Over the years, I continued to learn various design tools but never fully immersed myself in them, as my corporate career took priority. However, after years of climbing the corporate ladder and experiencing burnout, I decided to take a career break at 40. This break allowed me to dive deeper into digital creative tools like Linearity Curve for vector design and AI tools like MidJourney and Runway. These tools have been instrumental in helping me rediscover and redefine myself as an artist.

What inspires your art? Are there any particular themes or subjects that you enjoy exploring through your artwork?

For me, art has always needed to be meaningful, both for myself and for those who view it. I draw inspiration from the real world, using my art to reflect the emotions and experiences that define us as human beings. A few years ago, during a period of depression and deep loneliness, I turned to art as a way to cope. It was during this time that I created a character called The Lonely Dot, or Kodokuna Dotto in Japanese.

This character represents individuals as tiny, insignificant specks in the vastness of the universe, a reminder that loneliness is a shared experience. The Lonely Dot serves as a reflection that it’s okay to feel isolated at times, and that we should embrace these feelings rather than punish ourselves for them. I created several avatars of this character, each embodying different aspects of loneliness, with their own quirks and personalities. They illustrate how loneliness can take on different forms for each of us.

In 2024, I continue to adhere to this philosophy, focusing on human emotions and the realities of our world. Much of my recent work, like my pieces depicting Palestinian children or my Fragmentalism series, is centered on these themes. I strive to create art that speaks to the collective human experience and reflects the complex emotions we all navigate.

How did you come up with the concept of “Fragmentalism” in your series, and what significance does the absence of perfection hold for you?

I believe that, despite all the chaos in the world, we are living in one of the most exciting times for both human beings and artists. The rise of AI, especially tools like MidJourney, has disrupted the creative world, particularly the art space. AI can generate stunning artwork in seconds with just a simple prompt, which has sparked backlash from many traditional artists. I understand the resistance — it takes years of dedication, sacrifice, and mastery to hone one’s craft, but I also believe that progress, especially technological progress, is inevitable. Just as digital tools like Illustrator and Photoshop became essential for artists, I see AI as just another tool for artistic expression.

In exploring AI, I started using tools like MidJourney, experimenting with how they could align with my artistic vision. It was through this process that Fragmentalism was born. The concept emerged from my desire to blend AI-generated precision with human emotion and imperfection. As humans, we are inherently flawed, and that’s what makes us beautiful. While AI produces flawless, perfect art, I wanted to emphasize the human element by embracing imperfection. In Fragmentalism, I start with AI-generated art and then refine it using a digital vector tool called Linearity Curve. I visualize the imperfections I want to introduce—those human flaws—and reshape the piece to bring out the raw, imperfect side of the artwork. In a way, this reflects the rebellious nature of being human, embracing our imperfections rather than striving for unattainable perfection.

Your AI-generated images of Palestinian children are very powerful. How did this project come about, and what was your emotional response to the visuals AI produced?

Every piece of art I create carries a message, and with the ongoing war, I felt compelled to spread awareness about the true victims — innocent children. My initial intention was to generate artwork as a base for my Fragmentalism series, but what I saw shocked me. Using a general prompt to generate images of Palestinian children, without any emphasis on emotion, the AI still produced visuals of overwhelming despair and sadness. As someone with technical knowledge of how AI works, I understood that these results were driven by the datasets AI is trained on. It dawned on me that the AI’s vast dataset of Palestinian children must primarily consist of images filled with pain, so much so that it became the “norm” for the system to represent these children through sorrow. This realization was heartbreaking. It made me pause and rethink my process.

I felt a deep sadness that the prevailing image of Palestinian children in AI’s eyes—and by extension, in much of the world’s perception—is one of suffering. Rather than continue with my initial plan, I decided to share these unaltered visuals with the world. I intentionally included screenshots of the MidJourney-generated outputs, complete with timestamps, as a snapshot of how AI reflects the reality of Palestinian children at this moment in history. The fact that the default representation of these kids is one of sadness speaks volumes about the world they live in.

What do you think is the role of an artist in today’s world when it comes to addressing sensitive and pressing social issues through their craft?

I believe that artists, especially those who have mastered their craft far beyond someone like me who entered the art world later in life, possess a unique superpower — the ability to bring ideas and emotions to life. With this power comes the opportunity to stand for something. In today’s world, particularly for digital artists, the work we create can live on for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. This means we have the chance to make a lasting impact, one soul at a time.

The role of an artist, to me, is to use their platform to address the pressing social issues of our time. Just imagining that 300 years from now, a 13-year-old Palestinian child could come across my work, in a world I hope is free from war, and feel seen—knowing that I used my art to spread a message of awareness and empathy—that’s what keeps me fulfilled. It’s about creating something that resonates beyond the present moment and touches lives for generations to come.

Can you describe the connection between your childhood imagination and your current work with digital tools?

As a child, I was always captivated by the idea of creating things from my imagination, which likely influenced my career in product development. What makes us human, in my view, is our ability to bring our inner visions to life and manifest them into reality. Growing up, I loved imagining and designing characters in my mind, a passion fueled by my interest in comics. This imagination has carried over into my current work with digital tools, especially in my Fragmentalism series. I channel that same creative energy into crafting art that focuses on individuals rather than environments. I believe this approach allows the art to convey deeper emotions and creates a stronger connection with the viewer. For me, it’s about making the art feel personal and human, just as my childhood imagination intended.

What is a profound childhood memory?

Growing up poor taught me a profound lesson—the importance of appreciating life, even in the midst of struggle. One of the biggest contributors to who I am today is understanding how to find happiness despite adversity. It instilled in me a deep sense of gratitude for the present moment, and that perspective has shaped my outlook on life.

What role did physical activities like gym workouts and kickboxing play in your personal growth and your creative process?

Turning 40 has led me to reflect on my life and realize there are still many things I want to try and experience. I took up kickboxing because it’s a sport that pushes you out of your comfort zone, forcing you to adapt to unexpected situations and develop your own style—especially during sparring. In many ways, it mirrors life: we can’t predict the future, but we can learn to adapt as challenges come our way.

This mindset has translated into my creative process as well. Through these physical activities, I’ve become more self-aware, which has helped me better understand the kind of artist I want to be. Kickboxing, in particular, has sharpened my focus and taught me to embrace discomfort, which is crucial when exploring new artistic directions. Recently, I’ve also started bouldering, another activity that pushes me to confront my fears and limits — both physically and creatively.

What else fills your time when you’re not creating art?

During this career break, I’ve made it a priority to invest more time in personal relationships, reconnecting with loved ones and friends. I’ve also been expanding my knowledge by listening to podcasts on a wide range of topics, from ancient history to science. It’s been a fulfilling way to keep my mind engaged and explore new ideas outside of the art world.