
A conversation with Nike Adawi
The first time we meet Nike Adawi, she is holding a well-worn notebook. Its pages are filled with thoughts, ideas, sketches, and reminders – an intimate glimpse into the mind of someone constantly creating. It only takes a few pages to realize that creativity comes naturally to her. Art has always been close to her heart, and what once began as a personal passion has since evolved into her profession. In this interview, Nike shares the inspiration behind her work and offers an insight into the creative process that brings each piece to life.
How would you introduce yourself to someone for the first time?
My name is Nike Adawi, and I’m an artist who loves capturing everyday life through a playful lens. My paintings often depict urban environments, but seen through the eyes of a child—where colours are brighter, shapes are freer, perspectives are slightly off, and imagination always has room to flourish.
What would we find in your sketchbook?
Quick sketches of the world around me. I enjoy documenting what I see and letting small moments become the beginning of something bigger. If you flip through my sketchbook, you’re essentially looking through my life. It’s like a visual diary. Most of the places I’ve visited are recorded there.
When someone walks into your home, what should they feel?
Creativity, warmth, and curiosity. I want it to feel like a place where ideas can grow and where there’s space to appreciate the beauty in everyday life. A home where you’re constantly discovering new details while still feeling completely at ease—a place where it’s comfortable to move, think, and speak freely.
How do you feel when you have a pen or paintbrush in your hand?
Completely present. I stop thinking about time and performance and instead focus on the details around me—the things that might otherwise go unnoticed.
What does being an artist mean to you?
An artist is someone who helps us see the world in a new way. For me, art isn’t just about creating images; it’s about encouraging people to pause and look a little more closely at the world around them.
When did you realise you wanted to work as an artist?
When I realised that I don’t choose creativity—it chooses me. My life would feel completely different if I didn’t have the freedom to paint as openly and instinctively as I do today.
Which of your own artworks are you most proud of?
Usually, it’s the pieces where I’ve managed to capture the feeling of seeing the world in a brighter, more playful way. I love being able to revisit pages in my sketchbook and remember exactly what I saw, heard, and felt in the place I was drawing. The beautiful part is that I can share the image with others while the experience itself remains my own. Every viewer is then free to interpret the work in their own way.
Tell us about your creative process.
I’m constantly observing my surroundings, and whenever something catches my attention, I immediately reach for my sketchbook and capture it. When I’m working on larger paintings, the process is different. It usually begins with a feeling I can’t quite explain. I close my eyes, pick a colour almost instinctively, place my brush on the canvas, and sense—not so much a clear image, but rather the feeling of a place, a person, or a movement. I let that feeling guide me until it begins to resemble a sketch. Then I step back and decide where the painting wants to go next.
Music is an essential part of my process. I often listen to folk music from the 1960s and ’70s, and I always return to Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. Their ability to portray people, places, and life stories inspires me and helps me find both calm and focus while I work.
What do you hope to express through your art?
I want to remind people that there is magic in the everyday. By portraying cities and familiar surroundings through a child’s sense of curiosity, I hope to inspire joy, nostalgia, and a desire to keep discovering the world around us.
Where would you most like to see your art exhibited?
Seeing my paintings in a museum, where visitors can discover and interpret them on their own without me standing behind them, would be incredibly meaningful. Not only as a form of recognition, but as an opportunity for the work to become part of a larger conversation about how we see and experience the world around us.






















































































