Author Archives: Hansa Sethi

I entered the professional art world on 8 October 2025. Like many emerging artists, I suddenly saw countless opportunities appearing everywhere. Open calls, competitions, online exhibitions, publications, and digital galleries all promised global exposure. At first, it felt exciting. I thought: the art world has changed—artists can now reach audiences…

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By “meds,” I mean antidepressants. My immune system has endured enough damage from years of mental health struggles that began in my teenage years. I will still take medication when my body genuinely needs it—for fevers, colds, or pain—but no more antidepressants. And for that, I am deeply grateful. I…

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Regrets? Most of us have them. But do we really need to live inside them? I’ve had more than enough moments that could qualify—situations, choices, places where regret would have been the obvious response. Yet it wouldn’t change anything. That time is gone. What I have is today. “It’s easy…

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Just trying to live one more day—nothing more, nothing promised.

Subject: Artist Selected for Award Dear _____, We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to receive an award recognizing your artistic merit. The award ceremony will take place on ______ at ______, a prestigious venue. If the artist is unable to attend the ceremony, the prize…

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The Eight Minds is inspired by how an octopus thinks — not through a single brain, but through many interconnected centers of intelligence. A creature so extraordinary that scientists and researchers are still trying to understand how its many minds truly work. In this series, the octopus becomes a metaphor…

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I suffered from depression long before I knew how to name it. I smiled through difficult moments—through hurt and insult—not out of resilience, but numbness. I believed everyone was kind, unaware that I was burying my own pain deep within my mind for years.People often said, “You are so strong.…

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Vision exists, but focus does not. You are awake, yet the world arrives blurred—visually, mentally, emotionally. I told psychiatrists I could not see properly; they told me to “fight,” as if effort could override a body that had ceased to respond. Survival began with the impossible task of getting out…

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This series comes from my personal experience of depression — a silent gravity inside me that no one else can see or feel. It is not loud or dramatic; it is a slow, constant heaviness that pulls you down even while you are smiling and functioning in front of everyone.…

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October marked the moment I began taking my work into the professional world. It changed my life, giving me hope when I needed it most—and a reason to keep living.

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