Sneha Shrestha, known artistically as IMAGINE, is a Nepali artist whose practice bridges her native Devanagari script with the visual language of graffiti handstyles. Her work advocates for the preservation of living cultures within contemporary art, insisting that language, ritual, and memory remain active and not just archival. Working across painting, murals and sculpture, Shrestha moves fluidly between meditative abstraction and large-scale public intervention.
Her work balances cultural and political concerns with a deep commitment to material and story telling. In some bodies of work, she foregrounds calligraphic repetition drawn from Sanskrit scriptures and immigration documents, transforming language into meditative fields of colour and gesture. In others, she shifts toward architectural scale and sculptural presence, exploring guardianship, migration and belonging through brass, steel and site-responsive installation. Across mediums, her central themes include cultural continuity, diaspora identity and the creation of spaces that foster reflection, protection and pride.
Shrestha’s sculpture Dwarpalika was acquired by the Harvard Art Museums and is currently on long term view. She is the first contemporary Nepali artist to enter the permanent collection of the Museum of Fine Arts Boston with her painting Home416. She is the recipient of the James and Audrey Foster Prize from the Institute of Contemporary Art Boston. Her public sculpture in Queens, New York, created in partnership with the Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art for the New York City Department of Transportation, was recognised by Our Culture magazine as one of five innovative examples of public art. Her monumental sculpture Calling the Earth to Witness was commissioned by the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.
See more of her work on her website or Instagram.
When did you first fall in love with art?
I have loved painting and drawing for as long as I can remember as a child growing up in Kathmandu. Painting, especially, was something I naturally gravitated toward, which has continued to this day. At the same time, being an artist was not in my vocabulary and I hadn’t yet met an artist, so I didn’t know it was something one can do as a profession. Art was simply something I kept doing because it felt right. The idea that this could be my work came later. What started as instinct slowly became purpose.
Language, especially Nepali and Sanskrit, lies at the heart of your work – as does graffiti. What drew you to script and text as an artistic medium, and how did graffiti culture shape the way you work with mantras and spiritual themes?
Graffiti entered my life through my mentor Rob “ProBlak” Gibbs, who introduced me to murals and lettering at the same time. I did not grow up with graffiti culture in Nepal, so I was learning it from the beginning, with a lot of enthusiasm and curiosity. I was drawn to lettering styles, how artists could stretch and bend forms with colors, giving letters so much personality. Looking at letters as images opened something up for me. At some point I asked myself, what would happen if I wrote in Nepali instead? I learned to write in Nepali before I learned English, so those letterforms come more naturally to me. Stylising Devanagari allowed me to really find my voice and make the work my own.
Over time, I began mixing that foundation with the mindfulness practices I grew up with in Nepal. I slowed down and used more brushwork. Writing the same letter or mantra again and again felt meditative. That evolution led me to the style I work in now.
I want Devanagari to have a presence alongside the aesthetic lettering traditions of the world. These scripts carry centuries of history and are still living languages. They deserve to be seen within contemporary art and public space.
“IMAGINE” is your mother’s name translated into English. Can you talk about choosing this as your artist name?
I chose “IMAGINE” as my artist name because it is a translation of my mother’s name, Kalpana, which means imagination. When I first moved to the United States, I was new, far from home, and I missed my mom deeply. I still do. Taking her name in translation felt like a way to keep her close to my heart while building a life and career in a different country. Signing with her name became a reminder of her strength and of what she instilled in me about the importance of culture.
Your immigration journey clearly shapes your art, particularly the Celebration series. You’ve said it cost you “the most valuable thing in life – time with family.” How do you hope your work transforms the way people see the immigrant experience?
Leaving home meant missing birthdays, rituals, ordinary dinners and the small moments that hold a family together. When I say it cost me the most valuable thing in life, I mean that I can’t take back that time and I am conscious of what had to be given up in order to be where I am.
The Celebration series comes from that place. Each painting layers Nepali calligraphic forms drawn from the names of immigration documents people are required to complete over many years. The colour palettes are inspired by festive clothing worn by my mom during cultural celebrations that took place while the artist was away from home in Kathmandu. Even in her daughter’s absence, my mom continued to uphold traditions, dressing for celebrations and moving through life with dignity and resolve. The paintings carry the love and resilience of our loved ones across immigration distances.
What has been the proudest moment of your artistic career so far?
Being able to express myself in the most authentic way I can while simultaneously carrying my people with me and doing this as my career… All of it brings me so much joy and pride, so it’s hard to find the “proudest” moment.
I can tell you about my day yesterday, where I spoke about my recently acquired sculpture, Dwarpalika, at the Harvard Art Museums. I felt a lot of pride because the structure of the sculpture is inspired by the arched doorways of temples and traditional Newari homes in Kathmandu. The sculpture includes unsealed brass, a material historically used in ritual objects in Nepal and South Asia. Brass naturally patinas over time and is traditionally polished before important ceremonies. During the acquisition process, we discussed how the museum would care for the work. The brass can oxidise and be polished again, continuing the cycle of renewal that exists in its cultural context. It was important to me that the conversation include not just the preservation of the object, but the preservation of the tradition connected to it.
Museums shape how cultures are seen, understood and valued and… I feel pride that even long after I’m gone, Dwarpalika can contribute to keeping ancient traditions and narratives alive. It is so important for cultural stories to be told from and by the people of the culture.
The title Dwarpalika means temple guardian in Sanskrit, and I think of the work as guarding narratives and living traditions.
A few months into 2026, are there any artists or exhibitions inspiring you right now?
An exhibition that has deeply inspired me is An Indigenous Present, curated by Jeffrey Gibson and Jenelle Porter at the Institute of Contemporary Art Boston. The show brings together Native North American artists working across abstraction in various mediums. There was so much to love about this show: it was powerful to see an artist collaborate with an institution to tell an authentic story. What I loved most is how the exhibition challenges the conventional framing of what is “Indigenous art.” It shows works from elders to emerging artists, showing that cultural lineage and history is not something fixed or archival. I was inspired to think that maybe even more marginalised cultures can be seen in the present moment with ongoing cultural presence and living cultures as parts of active contemporary conversations.
Caroline Monnet’s work especially stood out to me. Monnet engages abstraction and architecture, and creates these visually strong structures that are telling stories from her Indigenous knowledge systems. This really resonated with my own practice.
