“At its core, my work is deeply personal. They mirror my own journey across countries, across careers, across different versions of myself.”

Artist Kajal Zaveri paints vibrant landscapes and seascapes that capture joy and celebration. Inspired by her Indian upbringing, she uses bold colors and expressive compositions to reflect her connection with nature and evoke a meditative mood. After relocating from California, she now works from her New York apartment studio, often playing music while she paints. When not making art, Kajal enjoys reading, trying new recipes, and volunteering to teach children.

In this interview, Kajal talks about her process, inspiration, and journey as an artist.

What’s your home life like?

I’m a New York–based artist, originally from India and previously based in California. Living across cultures and landscapes, from India to San Francisco and now the NYC area, has deeply shaped how I understand light, space, and belonging. For me, home is both physical and emotional; it’s where memory, movement, and nature quietly intersect.

I’m also a full-time mother, which profoundly influences my rhythm, perspective, and sense of presence. Balancing family life with a dedicated studio practice has taught me resilience, patience, and the beauty of small, meaningful moments, qualities that often echo in my work.

Tell Us About Your Teaching and Community Work

Community and mentorship are central to my life. I mentor and teach children of all abilities, creating inclusive art experiences that focus on confidence, expression, and joy rather than perfection. Giving back through my art is deeply important to me. I’ve contributed work to many auctions supporting a range of social causes, led inclusive workshops, and organized fundraising initiatives for museums and NGOs. Whether through teaching, collaborating, or donating work, I believe art can be both personal and collective and a way to build connection beyond the canvas.

What are you most proud of—whether in art or another part of your life?

I’m most proud of having the courage to follow my heart. Before becoming a full-time artist, I had a successful corporate career that was stable, structured, and secure. Choosing to step away from that path and fully commit to art was both exhilarating and uncertain. Building an independent practice rooted in authenticity, entirely self-taught and intuition-led, feels incredibly meaningful. Exhibiting at major fairs in San Francisco, New York, Miami, and Mumbai, seeing my work featured in various leading art publications, and even being displayed in Times Square have all been affirming milestones.

Being part of UGallery has been especially rewarding. I was just starting out as a professional artist, and when my work first went live on the platform, four out of five paintings sold in less than twenty-four hours; a moment that felt both humbling and energizing. It reinforced my belief that when you create from an honest place, the right collectors find you. I am also very proud of having my original works selected and sold on Williams Sonoma Home for several years; an experience that helped me grow both creatively and professionally.

Equally meaningful is the impact work I’ve been able to do, particularly leading various fundraisers supporting inclusive services both here and in India. Knowing that my art can extend beyond the canvas and contribute to something larger gives my practice deeper purpose.

Do you have any studio rituals that help you get into a creative flow?

Yes, I love to start my work with a hot cup of Indian masala chai. That first quiet moment, holding something warm and familiar, helps ground me before I step into the unknown of a blank canvas or working on an already started piece. I am blessed to have sweeping views of the Hudson River from my studio. The shifting light on the water, the slow movement, the openness of the horizon is both calming and energizing. There’s something about that steady flow that gently settles my thoughts and opens space for intuition.

When I work, I mix colors instinctively, letting my mood guide the palette. There may be a brief hesitation before the first stroke, and I’ve learned to honor it. But once I begin layering paint with thick strokes and loose gestures, the process becomes physical and immersive. I like to work standing, moving around the canvas, allowing that motion to guide the emotional rhythm of the piece. Music in the background often sets the tone; sometimes instrumental, sometimes rhythmic and immersive, but always fun.

How do you structure your day?

My working days begin slowly but similarly. I like to wake up early, get ready for the day, and keep my mornings reflective. I review sketches, photographs, or simply think of ideas. Studio hours are immersive and uninterrupted whenever possible. Administrative work, applications, and correspondence are structured later in the day.

Balance is important. Some days are deeply productive in paint; others are reflective and observational. I have learned that both are equally necessary parts of the creative cycle.

Where do you find inspiration for your art?

Nature has been and continues to be my primary source of inspiration. I am inspired by it, not only literally and aesthetically, but also for its energy and emotional resonance. The fleeting light, reflections on water, shifting skies, and the rhythm of trees are all exciting. My various travels and now living in New York have also influenced me; the verticality, resilience, and quiet poetry within the city’s structure.

Impressionism’s sensitivity to light and the emotional force of Abstract Expressionism both inform my work. But ultimately, inspiration comes from collected impressions and memories layered over time and space.

Tell us about your evolution as an artist.

I am a self-taught, intuitive artist, guided purely by instinct and emotion. Before becoming a full-time artist, I was working in the corporate world in a structured, fast-paced environment that was intellectually engaging but creatively limiting. After moving to California from India, I found myself increasingly drawn to the natural beauty around me: the vast skies, coastal light, rolling vineyards, and ever-changing shoreline. The sheer bounty of California’s landscape stirred something I couldn’t ignore. I started painting as a quiet outlet, at first just for myself as a way to process, pause, and reconnect.

What began as a creative escape slowly became essential. Painting didn’t feel like a hobby; it felt like coming home to something I had always carried within me. Over time, I made a deeply intuitive decision to step away from my corporate career and fully commit to art. It was a leap of faith, but also a return to authenticity.

In my early years, my work leaned more representational; I was trying to capture what I saw in those California landscapes. But gradually, I became more interested in capturing what I felt in those moments: the stillness, the wind, the memory of light rather than its exact form. That shift led me toward Abstract Realism, where suggestion became more powerful than depiction.

Relocating from California to New York just a couple of years ago marked another evolution in my work, reflecting the layered energy and resilience of the East Coast. My brushwork loosened, compositions became more distilled, and I began embracing negative space and restraint. Themes of transition, movement, and quiet strength naturally surfaced, mirroring my own journey. Today, I trust my process more deeply. There is more layering, more texture, but also more editing. I no longer feel compelled to resolve every detail. My work has grown quieter, yet more assured, confident in suggestion, open to interpretation, and rooted in the belief that art doesn’t have to explain itself to be felt.

How do you decide when an artwork is finished?

Deciding whether my artwork is done is rarely a visual decision alone; it’s also emotional. A painting is finished when it feels balanced yet alive, when adding another mark would disturb its rhythm. There’s a subtle sense of stillness that settles in. The painting no longer asks for something; it holds its own space.

What is the most interesting observation someone has made about your work?

Over the year, I have been blessed to get many positive comments about my work. One of my collectors once said that my paintings feel like “memories you’re not sure are yours, but somehow recognize.” That stayed with me because it perfectly describes what I hope to create: landscapes that feel familiar, even if they are not tied to a specific place.

Another collector once said my work holds “movement inside stillness,” capturing that quiet tension between energy and calm. I’ve also had viewers tell me that a painting reminded them of a childhood summer, a lake they visited, light through trees, or a horizon they haven’t seen in years. What moves me most is when someone stands in front of a piece and says it makes them feel peaceful, or that the colors lift their mood and bring a sense of happiness into their space.

I love that the work becomes personal in ways I could never plan. While the landscapes begin as my impressions and emotions, they often become someone else’s memory, refuge, or moment of stillness, and that shared emotional connection is incredibly powerful to me.

Is there an artwork from another artist that has had a significant impact on you?

The immersive water lily works of Claude Monet have profoundly influenced me, particularly the way light dissolves form and invites contemplation. His ability to transform observation into atmosphere resonates deeply. I’ve also been moved by the emotional intensity of Mark Rothko and see how color alone can evoke profound stillness and introspection. Both artists reinforce my belief that suggestion can be very powerful.

What’s your favorite museum?

The Museum of Modern Art in New York feels endlessly inspiring. The dialogue between historical masters and contemporary voices reminds me that art is a living continuum.

I also value spaces like the de Young Museum from my California years; places where landscape, culture, and experimentation intersect.

Is there anything else you’d like to share to help viewers better understand your work?

At its core, my work is deeply personal. Each painting begins as a feeling; a moment of light on water, a shifting sky, a quiet horizon I’ve stood before. They are not meant to describe a specific place, but to hold the emotional imprint of one. In many ways, they mirror my own journey across countries, across careers, across different versions of myself.

Nature has always been my greatest teacher. It teaches patience through seasons, resilience through storms, and surrender through tides that move whether we are ready or not. Living near the Hudson River now and having once been shaped by the vast openness of California’s bounty and coastlines, I’m constantly reminded that movement and stillness coexist. That lesson finds its way into my canvases through layered textures, shifting forms, and moments of calm held within energy.

As someone who has navigated change, relocating continents, leaving a corporate career to pursue art, and balancing motherhood with a creative life, I find comfort in nature’s quiet wisdom. It doesn’t rush. It evolves. It allows space for both chaos and clarity. My landscapes reflect that in-between space: between abstraction and memory, between movement and stillness, between arrival and departure. I hope viewers don’t try to define what they’re seeing, but instead allow themselves to feel it. If a painting offers even a brief pause, a breath, a sense of grounding, a soft recognition of something familiar, then I feel I’ve shared something honest. And to me, that quiet connection is everything.

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If you enjoyed this article about Kajal Zaveri's life and artwork, we recommend reading our interview with Fernando Bosch and his mixed media artwork.