Lee’s practice is a mashup of illustration, large-scale murals, ceramics, and installations. She’s painted enormous walls for the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario), created sculptures that sprawl across gallery floors, and contributed to the Toronto Biennial of Art. But whether she’s working on paper or a four-storey brick wall, that same soft spirit comes through — her work is gentle, but never fragile.

Dig into her background and you’ll find a big dose of that same openness. Born in Toronto to Hakka Chinese parents, Lee often weaves cultural memory and identity into her art — but she does it sideways, through suggestion and symbolism rather than direct explanation. Her figures are sometimes self-portraits, sometimes stand-ins for all of us. They bend, stretch, embrace, merge with plants, float in water. They’re alone but never quite lonely.

One of my favorite things about Lee is how she talks about her own practice — like she’s not just making art for herself, but for all the quiet moments people are too shy to say out loud. Love, longing, heartbreak, a sense of not fitting into the edges of the world — all of it is right there in her brushstrokes. And if you’re lucky enough to see her work in person, it feels like standing inside a big secret you’re allowed to share.

There’s also a playfulness that runs through everything she does. Lee’s installations often feel like you’ve walked into someone’s doodle come to life — a sense of childlike wonder, but never childish. She blurs the line between the deeply intimate and the whimsically absurd, and the result is work that makes you smile, then makes you pause and think, then makes you smile again.

As someone who’s always preaching about merging analog and digital, I have to say — Ness Lee’s devotion to the hand-drawn is refreshing. No flashy digital tricks, no AI shortcuts — just ink, brush, clay, and a whole lot of feeling. Her world is soft edges and open space — a reminder that sometimes the simplest line can hold the biggest truth.

So if you ever need a reason to slow down, breathe deep, and remember what it feels like to be tender in a world that often rewards the opposite — spend a few minutes with Ness Lee’s work. Or better yet, find one of her murals and stand there for a while. Let it remind you that softness is its own quiet revolution.

You can wander through more of Ness Lee’s universe at nesslee.com.