For artist Bindu Morjaria, creativity has always been more than a skill—it is a way of seeing the world, processing life’s challenges, and inspiring others to notice the beauty and fragility around them. Born in Nairobi, Africa, Bindu’s passion for colour and form was evident from her earliest days. Still, her journey into art would take many turns, shaped by family expectations, career paths, personal trials, and an unshakable love of making. Today, she brings that journey into vivid focus through her paintings, inviting viewers to share not only in her creative vision but in her reflections on nature, resilience, and hope.
Bindu Morjaria’s connection to art has been part of her life for as long as she can remember. Growing up in London, she discovered a natural talent for drawing and painting at a young age. She quickly realised that while maths and other subjects left her uninspired in school, art was where she excelled.
“I always loved drawing things and painting things,” she recalls with a smile. “When you’re a child and you draw something and people say, Oh, that’s nice, or they give you encouragement, you feel like you’re doing something right. That’s when I figured out this would be my path.”
Yet despite her early passion, Bindu’s path into the art world was far from straightforward. Like many artists from traditional families, she encountered pressure to pursue a more ‘practical’ profession. Encouraged by her parents to follow a safer route, she completed a BA in Sociology and worked in youth services in Brent.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to pursue it fully,” she says. “I pursued it until A-Level, but then my parents both said it won’t put bread on the table. You need to go and find a real job, as they say.”
Even in these roles, art found a way to remain present in her life. Whether organising summer schemes or community activities, Bindu always found herself leading creative projects. Later, she and her husband opened the first internet café in Harrow, stepping further away from the traditional art world. Yet, she continued to nurture her creativity through evening pottery, sculpture, and painting classes.
“It carried with me for the duration,” she reflects. “In 1996 we opened Harrows first internet café, which then evolved into an ISP, whilst working, I still did evening classes, pottery, sculpture, painting, whatever I could at home.”

Rediscovering Art and Building a Creative Community
In recent years, Bindu has returned to art with renewed focus, transforming what was once a cherished hobby into the centre of her daily life. She is now an active member of Harrow Open Studios, where she has opened her studio doors to the public for the last seven years, and she is also part of the Pinner Sketch Club, where she exhibits regularly and participates in creative activities throughout the year.
“I’ve been concentrating on it,” she explains. “And it’s been wonderful to be part of a community of artists who support each other.”
These networks have allowed her to share her work while connecting with others, something she deeply values.
“What I love most is interacting with people when they look at my work,” she says warmly. “When someone feels encouraged to create something themselves, or even see art differently, I feel I’ve made a difference. And I get inspired by their stories too. It’s always an exchange.”
Nature, Colour, and a Vanishing World
Bindu’s work is centred on a deep fascination with the natural world, textures, and colours. Her paintings are often vivid, layered, and infused with an energy that reflects her passion for the outdoors. From the patterns on rusting bridges to the flowing movement of waterfalls, she finds inspiration in everyday moments that many might overlook.
“Colours inspire me,” she says. “Even just walking in a park or seeing the trees, the way the light hits them, it might sound a bit common to say, but those things affect me. Even rusty metal, textures, and patterns all enter my work.”
In recent years, her focus has sharpened on the fragility of the natural world. Inspired by David Attenborough’s documentaries, Bindu’s paintings have become a visual commentary on environmental loss and the urgency of preserving the planet’s biodiversity.
“I’ve been painting a lot of the little beasties and insects that are vanishing rapidly,” she explains. “People often ask, Why have you got so many creepy crawlies in your paintings? But I think these will disappear, and if we don’t pay attention, no one will even know they existed.”

Embracing Mediums and Welcoming Challenges
Though Bindu’s love of painting has remained constant, she enjoys exploring different mediums, each bringing its own set of challenges and rewards. In recent years, she has found herself particularly drawn to alcohol inks, a medium known for its unpredictable nature and vibrant hues.
“Alcohol inks are quite tricky,” she admits. “You put one layer down and then add more, and suddenly that first layer disappears. It’s a constant challenge, but I love it. The vibrancy of the colours, especially when you add mica powders or a bit of sparkle, blows my mind. I look at it and think, wow, that’s something special.”
She also works with resin, a medium that demands decisiveness and trust. Unlike acrylics or inks, there is no going back once the resin sets.
“With resin work, it’s very much in the moment,” she explains. “You do it, it starts to dry, and within 24 hours, you can do nothing about it. You have to be happy with it as it is.”
Bindu embraces this contrast between the flexible and the final. She enjoys the freedom to adjust and layer with some materials while accepting the commitment required by others.
“Every painting is different. Sometimes I’ll leave a piece for a week, return to it, and see something missing. And other times, like resin, it’s done, and you must move on. I like that balance—it keeps me on my toes.”
Illness, Resilience, and the Healing Power of Art
Bindu’s creative journey took an unexpected turn four years ago when she was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The illness forced her to step back from certain forms of art, mainly pottery and sculpture, where the dust became a serious health hazard.
“I haven’t been able to return to pottery because the dust affects me greatly,” she says quietly. “At first, I couldn’t even sit for long periods, I couldn’t work with resin, I couldn’t use alcohol inks—it would set me off coughing.”
Yet, art became her therapy during some of the most challenging periods of her treatment.
“I’ve been in the hospital many times, sometimes for a month or two,” she shares. “Every time, I would take blank sheets of paper with me, and every day I would draw a cartoon or something about how my day was going. I made bookmarks for the nurses and doctors, handed them out, and on the whiteboard outside my room, I would draw something or write a quote. It just kept me going.”
Through these small, daily acts of creativity, Bindu found comfort, strength, and a way to connect with the world outside her hospital room.
“Creating pulled me through,” she says. “Apart from my family and the NHS, who have been brilliant, art kept me connected and focused on something beyond the illness.”

Reflections, Hopes, and a Creative Future
Now, as her health continues to improve, Bindu is determined to get back on track, rebuild her practice, and return to exhibitions. She has already shown her work in London, including the prestigious Talented Art Fair, and though her illness caused a pause, her ambition remains undimmed.
“I would love to create more paintings, bigger paintings, and exhibit them in as many galleries as I can in London,” she says with a smile. “I want people to enjoy my work because it’s my passion. If some of the energy I put into it can pass to them, that would make me so happy.”
For Bindu, every painting reflects a moment, a feeling, or an inspiration, and each one is equally important to her.
“Every one of them, at the moment of creation, feels like my child,” she reflects. “At that point, I think that’s the best thing I’ve done so far. Then, I try to take it up a notch, push myself, experiment with new effects, and work with different mediums. That’s what keeps me going.”
Her creative process combines intuition, patience, and trust in the medium. She leaves some paintings aside, allowing them to ‘breathe’ before returning to them with fresh eyes, while others, particularly resin pieces, demand that she commit fully to the moment.
“There’s always that tension between knowing something is finished and thinking maybe there’s something more I can add,” she laughs. “But I’ve learned to trust the process, to know when to walk away, and when to keep exploring.”
For Bindu, art is not just a personal journey but a way of inspiring others to see the world differently, cherish what might be lost, and find joy in creation. As she has experienced firsthand, it is also a powerful form of therapy.
“Art is my therapy,” she says. “And I think it can be that for anyone, no matter what they are going through. You have to keep creating.”
