Interview with Fei Meng

A love of drawing from a very young age set me on the path toward art and design. As I began to find my footing as an artist, I faced a crossroads — and I chose to pursue both design and visual storytelling through painting in parallel, rather than picking one over the other.

Aesthetic and functionality — and for me, the two are inseparable. My style is traditional, and devoted to beauty.

The spark of inspiration, for me, tends to come relatively naturally. An image forms, a feeling arrives, a direction becomes clear — and in those early moments there is a quiet excitement, a sense of possibility that is genuinely energizing.
But the process of translating that inspiration into something concrete, and then refining it step by step until it truly works — that is where things become trying. There are many moments of doubt along the way. You look at what you have made and it does not yet match what you imagined. You adjust, you rework, you question whether the gap will ever fully close. With the Four Seasons scarf, those months of digital painting on the tablet were full of that kind of persistence — pushing through the difficult middle ground between the initial vision and the finished work. And then, when it finally comes together — that is where the real enjoyment lives. Not just relief, but a deep satisfaction that is difficult to describe. Designing, for me, moves from excitement to effort to quiet joy. And I would not change that arc.

After many years as an illustrator, an opportunity arrived to paint for a product — and that changed everything. The skills I had developed through illustration: narrative composition, color, storytelling within a single image, translated into product design in a way that felt completely natural. The transition was not a decision so much as a recognition — I followed an opportunity with genuine curiosity, gave it everything I had, and found myself somewhere new.

Two things, running in parallel: continuing to design good products, and creating my own body of work as a painter.

Look more. Absorb more. And develop a traditional aesthetic sensibility — one that allows you to genuinely distinguish between what is beautiful and what is not. Study the classics. Spend time with traditional art forms, whether from your own culture or others. Learn what has stood the test of time and ask yourself why. That foundation will serve you long after every current trend has been forgotten. And always be kind. To your clients, to your collaborators, to the people who will one day use what you make. Kindness is not separate from good design — it is part of it. The most enduring work comes from a genuine care for others, a real desire to make their lives a little more beautiful. That intention shapes everything, from the first sketch to the finished piece.

Modern design has at times become too focused on the self. I believe the future lies in designing increasingly from the perspective of others — while never losing your own voice — and in doing so, making the world a little more beautiful.

Resonance — with the people who see it, and with the people who use it.

The collaborations I take on tend to begin from a place of genuine affinity — the companies and clients I work with are typically those who already appreciate my style and the visual language I bring. That alignment matters enormously. When a client comes to you because they genuinely connect with what you do, the entire working relationship becomes more honest, more fluid, and ultimately more productive.
Within that, my approach is always to listen carefully to what the client needs and do my best to meet it. Understanding their vision, their audience, and what they want the work to communicate is the foundation of everything. I take that responsibility seriously.

And underneath all of it is a simple, driving intention: to inspire. To create work that moves people, that adds something beautiful to their lives, that leaves them feeling a little more uplifted than before. That is the philosophy that guides every collaboration, every painting, every design decision I make.

To transmit beauty, and through that, to uplift people's lives.

Receiving congratulations from others — and feeling a renewed confidence to keep going.

After many years as an illustrator, an opportunity arrived to paint for a product — and that changed everything. The skills I had developed through illustration: narrative composition, color, storytelling within a single image, translated into product design in a way that felt completely natural. The transition was not a decision so much as a recognition — I followed an opportunity with genuine curiosity, gave it everything I had, and found myself somewhere new.

After many years as an illustrator, an opportunity arrived to paint for a product — and that changed everything. The skills I had developed through illustration: narrative composition, color, storytelling within a single image, translated into product design in a way that felt completely natural. The transition was not a decision so much as a recognition — I followed an opportunity with genuine curiosity, gave it everything I had, and found myself somewhere new.

Scarves at the moment.

Look more. Absorb more. And develop a traditional aesthetic sensibility — one that allows you to genuinely distinguish between what is beautiful and what is not. Study the classics. Spend time with traditional art forms, whether from your own culture or others. Learn what has stood the test of time and ask yourself why. That foundation will serve you long after every current trend has been forgotten. And always be kind. To your clients, to your collaborators, to the people who will one day use what you make. Kindness is not separate from good design — it is part of it. The most enduring work comes from a genuine care for others, a real desire to make their lives a little more beautiful. That intention shapes everything, from the first sketch to the finished piece.

A good designer focuses on aesthetics, usability, and solving the immediate problem at hand. They create products or visuals that are functional, beautiful, and pleasant to use.

A great designer looks beyond the object itself to understand human behavior, emotion, and culture. They don't just solve problems—they anticipate needs, challenge the status quo, and create meaningful experiences that reshape how people live, work, and connect.

Good design effectively communicates information and sparks emotional resonance, making complex messages intuitive and effortless to understand.

Evaluating it comes down to whether it perfectly solves the user's core problem while seamlessly balancing aesthetics and functionality.

Beautiful design rooted in traditional values deeply connects us to our cultural identity, providing a profound sense of meaning and continuity.

By uplifting the human spirit, this kind of thoughtful aesthetics reduces stress and inspires joy, ultimately honoring the user's daily experience.

Because it is both deeply meaningful and well-crafted, people cherish and preserve it, creating sustainable, long-term value that far outlasts disposable trends.

would create my own art book, a story series that truly belongs to me.

My own art book.

Rooted in beauty and tradition。 This is a timeless foundation that ensures design has depth, soul, and a lasting presence.

Fine art artist

Design is the work of bringing beauty to human life. Through beautiful design, people can enjoy life more deeply and find nourishment for their souls.

My husband and my son.

Focus, and continuously drawing nourishment from life

Fei Meng Art is a studio focused on visual storytelling through illustration — bringing narratives to life for media publications and products alike. Whether approached from a product design perspective or a marketing angle, the studio's core value is the pursuit and communication of beauty. The belief driving everything we do is simple: that a well-crafted image, placed in the right context, can make the lives of both clients and their audiences a little more beautiful.
That philosophy shaped the Four Seasons scarf from the very beginning. It was never just about creating a pretty pattern — it was about giving the wearer an entire world of feeling to carry with them. When illustration and product design work in harmony around a shared sense of beauty, the result becomes something more than functional. It becomes meaningful.

The more I work on product design, the more I find that the most important quality in any design is that it simply makes sense. That means approaching every decision from the perspective of others — asking what feels right, what feels appropriate, what feels considered — while still expressing it through your own aesthetic sensibility and way of telling stories.

What truly drives me is not the object itself, but whether it can carry the mood and feeling of a painting into the real world. Any product that offers that possibility interests me. If an image can live inside something people touch, wear, or use every day — and if that object can quietly bring a little of that painted world into their life — then I want to design it.
The scarf happened to be the perfect beginning. But the conversation between painting and product is one I hope to keep exploring.

But if I speak to what is most present for me right now, the Four Seasons scarf holds a special place. Not necessarily because it is the most technically accomplished thing I have done, but because it brought together so many things I care about at once — fine arts, digital illustration, cultural heritage, and the challenge of making something that is both beautiful and wearable. It was also my first full foray into product design, which made every decision feel significant. The months spent building that single narrative painting — the koi pond, the lotus flowers, the dancing maiden with her flowing sleeves — taught me a great deal about how a design has to work on multiple levels simultaneously: as an image, as a composition, and as an object in the world.

It's this scarf.

Any blended material that incorporates silk.
There is something about silk that aligns perfectly with the kind of work I do. It carries color with a luminosity that other fabrics simply cannot match — the way it catches light gives an illustration a living quality, as though the painting itself is breathing. When blended with wool, as in the Four Seasons scarf, you gain the best of both worlds: the warmth and body that makes it practical across all seasons, and the silky smoothness and sheen that elevates it into something closer to art.
From a creative standpoint, silk also has a natural affinity with the visual language I am drawn to. The fluidity of water sleeves in classical Chinese dance, the delicate hues of an ancient garden, the softness of lotus petals — these are not images that belong on a stiff or heavy surface. They need a material that moves, that drapes, that responds to the body the way a painting responds to light.
On the digital side, working on a tablet in Photoshop has become my primary creative platform — it is where the traditional sensibility of fine arts meets the precision and flexibility that product design demands. But ultimately, it is the final material that brings the work to life. And for me, right now, that material begins with silk.

Creativity, for me, often arrives unannounced. Many of my best ideas come in a flash — a sudden image, a feeling, a connection between two things that had no obvious relationship a moment before. You cannot plan for those moments, only stay open to them.
But if there is something I can return to deliberately, it is looking at great paintings. Spending time with exceptional artwork — whether classical Chinese ink paintings, Western fine arts, or contemporary illustration — consistently refills something in me. It is not about borrowing from what I see. It is more that great works remind you of what is possible, they recalibrate your eye, and they quietly raise the standard you hold yourself to.

Aesthetic and functionality — and for me, the two are inseparable.

The spark of inspiration, for me, tends to come relatively naturally. An image forms, a feeling arrives, a direction becomes clear — and in those early moments there is a quiet excitement, a sense of possibility that is genuinely energizing.
But the process of translating that inspiration into something concrete, and then refining it step by step until it truly works — that is where things become trying. There are many moments of doubt along the way. You look at what you have made and it does not yet match what you imagined. You adjust, you rework, you question whether the gap will ever fully close. With the Four Seasons scarf, those months of digital painting on the tablet were full of that kind of persistence — pushing through the difficult middle ground between the initial vision and the finished work. And then, when it finally comes together — that is where the real enjoyment lives. Not just relief, but a deep satisfaction that is difficult to describe. Designing, for me, moves from excitement to effort to quiet joy. And I would not change that arc.

Happy. Genuinely, simply happy.

Resonance — with the people who see it, and with the people who use it.

Aesthetic and functionality — the same two things that guide me when I am creating.

To transmit beauty, and through that, to uplift people's lives.

Modern design has at times become too focused on the self. I believe the future lies in designing increasingly from the perspective of others — while never losing your own voice — and in doing so, making the world a little more beautiful.

My last exhibition was in the United Kingdom, where my colored pencil portraits were selected for the Rising Stars exhibition held by the Royal Society of British Artists in London — an experience that remains very close to my heart. As for what comes next, my hope is to hold a solo exhibition. And honestly, the sooner the better.

Shen Yun is perhaps the most direct source for my recent work. There is a visual and spiritual world within those performances. Travel has shaped my eye in ways that are harder to trace but no less real. And nature is always present.

My style is traditional, and devoted to beauty.

I live in New York. Before that, I spent over ten years in the United Kingdom, and I was born in China. Three very different worlds, and all of them live in my work.

I work with a clear respect for what the client needs, while always bringing my own signature to the work.

Communication. Thorough, honest, ongoing communication.

As for selecting a good designer — I think chemistry matters more than most companies initially expect. You can look at portfolios, assess technical skill, compare styles. All of that is useful and necessary. But the designer who is truly right for you is one that emerges through the process of working together.

My drawing tablet, my desk, my bed, my meditation cushion, and my tea cup.

Look more. Absorb more. And develop a traditional aesthetic sensibility — one that allows you to genuinely distinguish between what is beautiful and what is not. Study the classics. Spend time with traditional art forms, whether from your own culture or others. Learn what has stood the test of time and ask yourself why. That foundation will serve you long after every current trend has been forgotten. And always be kind. To your clients, to your collaborators, to the people who will one day use what you make. Kindness is not separate from good design — it is part of it. The most enduring work comes from a genuine care for others, a real desire to make their lives a little more beautiful. That intention shapes everything, from the first sketch to the finished piece.

One of the most positive aspects of being a designer is the opportunity to work in a creative world and constantly bring ideas to life. Honestly, I don't think there are many negative aspects. If anything, the biggest challenge is maintaining your passion over time. There may be periods when your enthusiasm fades, and during those times it's important to take a break, recharge, and prepare yourself to start again with renewed energy and inspiration.

My golden rule in design is to make the world a better place through my work and to create designs that allow people to feel kindness, beauty, and positivity.

I highly value empathy because it allows designs to connect with people on a deeper level.

Photoshop, Procreate, pencils

I fully immerse myself in every design project. Even in my everyday life, I continue thinking about it and refining ideas in my mind until the project is complete.

It depends; for an illustration for a scarf, it normally takes several months.

How did you become a designer?

The current job incorporates my illustration with products.

Storytelling piece

Two things, running in parallel: continuing to design good products, and creating my own body of work as a painter.

Mostly myself.

A personal illustration book

feimenguk@gmail.com

No, thanks