Ema Gaspar: The Artist Creating Sanctuary Through Drawing
The Portuguese illustrator on moving to Japan, reclaiming memories, and why drawing can be a tool for survival
Interview by Molly Chambers
Ema Gaspar’s graphite worlds pull you in through a membrane between memory and fantasy, where plants hold secrets and nostalgia takes physical form. Born in Almada and now based in Tokyo, the visual artist has carved out a practice that feels like both refuge and resistance: soft, intricate illustrations which take form from the seed of childhood memories and evolve organically into portals of softness.
There’s something quietly radical about Gaspar’s commitment to softness. One of her more recent projects, Plant Drawing Club, has created a communal space for healing and exploration.
Her work has made its way into collaborations spanning fashion, music, and even Magic: The Gathering cards, all whilst retaining an undeniable sense of authenticity. They’re fragments of her mind and body, she explains, and they deserve protection from projects that don’t feel sincere.
We caught up with Ema to talk about her grandparent’s garden as an early confidant, why she had to escape Tokyo’s pace to reconnect with herself, and how painful experiences can be transformed into something beautiful.
Phantasy: Hi Ema, thanks so much for speaking with us today! Could you tell us a bit about your background?
Ema: Thank you for the interview! I was born in Almada, Portugal, and studied Visual Arts at an art school. At that time, I was more focused on painting, but I’ve always been doing illustration since I was a child, drawing at my grandparents’ house. During the pandemic, I finally had the time and space to really pursue illustration as my main path.
Phantasy: Who or what were some of your early influences?
Ema: My grandparents’ small garden, fruit magazines, the book Oh! book by Josse Goffin that my parents bought me when I was little, and monster toys.
“I started drawing as a survival tool—a way to express my feelings. Since then, drawing has been essential for my mental health. It’s a way to transform painful childhood experiences into something good and beautiful.”
Phantasy: Had you visited Japan before you moved to Tokyo?
Ema: Yes, about six years ago. I stayed in Japan for two months—part of the time in an artist residency in Itoshima, and I also had an exhibition in Tokyo during that time. That’s when I met a lot of people and wanted to come back.
Phantasy: You’ve mentioned how you’ve been inspired by both manga and anime since childhood, how has it felt living somewhere which is maybe closer to those fantasy worlds you immersed yourself in when younger?
Ema: Right now, I don’t really watch anime or read manga, but when I was a child, I felt those animations explored more fantasy and inner worlds compared to what was on Portuguese TV at the time. I was drawn to that. It made me feel like there was something beyond ordinary life.
Phantasy: You’ve talked before about how plants have always been a powerful source of inspiration for creating your own world. Do you feel like the dynamics of this relationship have changed since living in the biggest city in the world? How do you connect with nature?
Ema: I think our connection with plants and nature is related to the time we have. In Tokyo, everything moves so fast, and I wasn’t used to that pace. My connection with nature started to fade, and my mental health got worse. So I decided to move for a few months to Hokuto, near nature, at 0site—to rebalance myself and reconnect with nature and with myself.
Phantasy: You use pencil and graphite primarily in a two dimensional medium , but you’ve experimented a lot with different iterations like animation and fashion collaboration. Could you tell us a little about how you’ve arrived at your style today?
Ema: I’m always evolving. I started drawing in black and white, mostly with pens. Then, in university, I studied painting, which helped me experiment with colour and discover my less literal, more emotional world. Over time, I learned to tune in more with my feelings and nostalgia and bring those into my illustrations. I’m still learning that every day.
Phantasy: Your work often feels like reaching back into a memory, not in a literal sense but more like the way a scent or a song can pull you into another time. When you’re creating, are you consciously chasing these moments or do they emerge on their own?
Ema: That’s such a beautiful description, thank you! It’s a mix of both. Sometimes it starts with a nostalgic feeling or memory, and then I reclaim it by transforming it through my art. In the end, it becomes something new—a new memory or moment. I’m always surprised by the final artwork; I never know exactly how it will end.
“Healing through drawing or plants feels softer—more natural and flowing. You don’t even notice it’s happening until you see the result.”
Phantasy: Some of your imagery feels like a way of reclaiming the softness of childhood. Is this a deliberate act of resistance against the harsher parts of growing up?
Ema: Yes, totally. I didn’t have an easy childhood, and I started drawing as a survival tool—a way to express my feelings. Since then, drawing has been essential for my mental health. It’s a way to transform painful childhood experiences into something good and beautiful. That’s why drawing is so important to me—that, and therapy, of course.
Phantasy: In your interview with Metal Magazine a couple of years ago, I thought it was really interesting how you said the only requirement for where your characters live is that it’s not a scam. Could you elaborate on this? What does an authentic character or setting mean to you?
Ema: I don’t remember exactly how that question was asked, but I try to stay aware of how clients plan to use my characters and artwork. They’re literally parts of me—my mind and body—so I have to protect them. Sometimes clients want to use them in projects that don’t feel right or sincere, and I try to avoid that. But of course, I make mistakes too.
Phantasy: This year you’ve created Plant Drawing Club—could you explain a little bit about what that is? What drove you to create it, and how has the reception been?
Ema: The Plant Drawing Club is a monthly workshop I host in Tokyo, usually at the Seasonvoice store in Omotesando. I created it as a free space where anyone can come to draw, reflect, and reconnect—with nature and with themselves.
The project grew from my own need for refuge and healing. It’s a gentle space to turn inward, observing and drawing the personalities of plants and flowers with coloured pencils. My hope is to nurture a community that holds space for emotional connection and collective reflection.
My connection with plants began in my grandfather’s garden when I was little—the plants would listen and keep my secrets. That intimacy with nature shaped my art practice and became a way for me to process emotions and build inner worlds.
Phantasy: Has anything surprised you about PDC?
Ema: Yes! How deeply people’s plant drawings reflect their own personalities. It’s been healing for many participants, and for me too. I’m always learning from everyone who takes part.
Phantasy: What does “healing” mean to you in this context? Is it recovery, protection, transformation, or something else entirely?
Ema: That’s such a good question. For me, healing is a mix of recovery, protection, and transformation. Healing through drawing or plants feels softer—more natural and flowing. You don’t even notice it’s happening until you see the result. It’s a faster and gentler process than trying to heal without an anchor or safe space, especially in today’s chaotic and emotional world.
Phantasy: Japan has an aesthetic concept called mono no aware, a concept which emphasises the transience of beauty in passing moments. Do you see a connection between that idea and the way you work with memory and healing?
Ema: That’s such a beautiful thought, I hadn’t connected it before, but yes. There will always be wounds that heal but leave scars, and that’s what makes things special. Scars give you a unique sensitivity and vision. Painful experiences can become anchors—if you learn how to transform them, they become your power and your own language. It just takes time and patience.
Pattern illustration for Yueqi Qi AW25, ©Tanase
Phantasy: Is there a particular brand or artist you’d especially like to work with in the future?
Ema: I feel very lucky and grateful for everything I’ve achieved and for all the clients I’ve collaborated with. In general, I just hope to keep creating things that inspire people and help them in their daily lives—that’s my main goal in life. ✿
