There are artists whose work asks us to stop and think.
Then there are artists whose presence quietly reminds us that kindness, curiosity and connection can also become part of an artistic practice.
I've always thought Rekha belongs somewhere between the two.
I first came across Rekha Menon's work around 2018. Since then, we have had several opportunities to work together on different projects with Di Bawah Langit Yang Sama the recent ones. Whether at exhibitions, art fairs, or simply through casual conversations, one thing has remained consistent: Rekha is thoughtful, professional, and remarkably easy to work with.
While that may seem like a small detail, anyone who has spent time in the art world knows that professionalism is every bit as valuable as artistic ability.
Perhaps that warmth is also reflected in her paintings.
Bright colours.
Playful forms.
Curious characters.
At first glance, Rekha's works appear cheerful and approachable, filled with vibrant colours and an unmistakable sense of optimism.
Spend a little longer with them, however, and another layer begins to emerge.
Beneath the lively palette lies a quiet meditation on resilience, hope, relationships and the beauty hidden within ordinary moments.
This sensitivity towards human experience is perhaps most evident in her 2024 solo exhibition, Echoes: Navigating Loss and Embracing Life.
Curated by Stephen Menon, the exhibition presented a body of work inspired by Rekha's personal experiences with grief and loss.
But it was not simply an exhibition about sadness.
Instead, it was about what happens after.
How do we continue after experiencing loss?
How do we find hope when life does not always unfold the way we expect?
Through these works, Rekha transformed a deeply personal experience into something much more universal. The exhibition became a reflection on resilience, the quiet strength that allows us to continue moving forward while carrying memories of the past.
Reading through her responses for this Artist's Pick questionnaire, one thing became increasingly clear.
Rekha doesn't really talk about paintings.
She talks about people.
Almost every answer eventually returns to them.
A conversation with a friend.
A stranger.
Children at play.
Travelling.
Music.
Books.
Acts of kindness.
They're ordinary things.
Things most of us experience every day without giving them much thought.
For Rekha, however, these are precisely where ideas begin.
Her ideas rarely arrive while sitting in the studio trying to force inspiration into existence. Instead, they emerge through observation and paying attention to the world around her.
Her artistic process seems less about searching for inspiration, and more about recognising it when it quietly appears.
Perhaps that is why her works feel so inviting.
They do not demand immediate answers.
They simply ask us to slow down.
Like opening a gift, each encounter reveals another layer.
One response, in particular, stayed with me.
While reflecting on her In a Limbo series, Rekha mentioned that perhaps we are not waiting for the artwork to be ready.
Perhaps the artwork is waiting for us instead.
It is a simple observation, yet one that many artists will probably understand.
Sometimes an unfinished work is not waiting for another layer of paint.
It is waiting for a different version of ourselves.
There is also something refreshing about how Rekha speaks about younger artists.
She does not encourage them to arrive too quickly.
Instead, she encourages them to remain curious.
To make mistakes.
To stay open to change.
To trust that an artistic voice develops through time rather than through speed.
After all, she herself is still experimenting, still exploring and still discovering new directions after more than a decade as a full-time artist.
In an age where artists often feel pressured to constantly produce, constantly post and constantly grow, Rekha's practice offers a quieter reminder.
Meaningful work cannot be rushed.
It grows alongside the person making it.
Maybe that is why her paintings feel hopeful.
Not because they ignore life's difficulties.
But because they recognise that joy, resilience and curiosity are choices we continue making, even after difficult seasons.
As technology increasingly shapes how we live, Rekha's work gently asks us to reconnect with something that cannot easily be replicated: our capacity to feel, to notice and to care.
And perhaps that, more than anything else, is what makes Rekha Menon's practice worth paying attention to.
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