This is a tale of creativity born from a corporate nightmare, narrated by Lee Tze Gwen, a 32-year-old animator-cum-artist from Singapore, who decided that drawing animated gore wasn’t quite enough to fill her artistic quota. Buckle up; it’s about to get wholesome.
It all started at the tender age of 10 when Lee realized doodling on her homework wasn’t going to get her a promotion. And what better way to torture oneself than by diving headfirst into the gaming industry? You know, the field where “pencil pushers” turn into “gore creators.” That’s right, Lee was responsible for more stabbings and explicit scenes than your average Friday night horror flick. Clearly, nothing says “hobby” quite like sketching intricate blood spills.
But after a long day of animating chaos, the poor soul needed an escape. Enter plants—the world’s green thumbed therapists. During the pandemic, while stuck indoors with a growing sense of existential dread, she saw the light (or was it the sprouting basil?). And thus, Curious Pots was born in 2020—a side hustle sprouting faster than a weed in a neglected garden.
Lee’s artistic style? So simple it would make a modernist artist weep. Think greens and blues with a pop of pink and yellow—because why not? Her lead character, Layla, embodies the plight of the tired corporate worker yearning for fresh air and, you guessed it, plants. Layla’s a metaphor that screams, “Help! I’m drowning in paperwork!” and “Who knew foliage could be so comforting?”
Lee kicked off her venture with stickers, striking while the sticker-market was sizzling. Because, let’s face it, who doesn’t want to slap a whimsical illustration on their mediocre life choices? Now it’s full-blown stationery, calendars, and a “snail-mail club.” Ah yes, because who wouldn’t want to receive art in the mail instead of bills?
Tariffs and Artistic Innovation
The pesky US tariffs forced Lee to innovate (or so she claims). With costs skyrocketing for her American customers, who knew that art could double as an anti-tax scheme? So, with genius as sharp as a freshly sharpened pencil, she concocted a subscription-based mail club filled with prints, letters, and stickers—a delightful, tariff-free way to indulge in art. What’s next? A “pay-your-bills-with-it” plan?
Pricing? A mere 8 Singapore dollars domestically, slightly more if you live abroad and want your peony-themed joy to arrive at your doorstep. With around 80 subscribers, it seems Layla’s artistic endeavor is turning heads faster than a cat meme on social media.
From earning a humble 6,000 Malaysian ringgit (that’s about $1,500 for those of you still keeping track) as a full-time animator, she now rakes in more from Curious Pots. And yes, moving to Singapore has its perks—like finding art markets where she can sell her wares and, presumably, keep her plants alive.
The Delicate Balance
With a freelancing gig and an art side hustle in her back pocket, Lee has perfected the delicate art of balancing stress and creativity. Gone are the days of monotonous corporate life! If animation tires her out, guess what? She can slap some stickers onto her mail club and call it a day. Healing through creativity—what a novel concept!
But don’t be fooled by the laid-back vibe. Being self-employed means you can choose your adventure, or in this case, your artistic vision. However, she’s learned that customer feedback is sort of important—critical, even! Sometimes artists cling to their creative whims like a wayward child to a security blanket, but maybe—just maybe—staying flexible could be the key to success.
Get Over Your Creative Doubt
Lee had a plan: one reel a day until her work took off. She knew zip about social media, but hey, that’s what determination and a dash of madness can achieve! Her advice? Stop procrastinating and start posting. Perfection? Overrated! Are you waiting for that golden moment when your art is “ready”? Spoiler alert: it never comes.
So there you have it, a journey from the brutality of animation to the zen garden of artistic expression. Join Lee Tze Gwen in her quest to liberate creativity—one peony, one sticker, and one steady stream of customer feedback at a time.
