SHOWCASE

/ ARTIST / 2026

ARTIST: Stone Leela
COUNTRY: Thailand
CONTACT: https://www.instagram.com/stoneleela?igsh=bWZhZ2ZsNmdkcXNv&utm_source=qr
Napat Leelahapong (b. 1995) is a Thai visual artist and art educator whose practice is rooted in everyday life. Working primarily with painting and mixed media, he explores the emotional impact of living in contemporary cities, where routine, ambition, and social expectations quietly shape the way people think, feel, and see themselves.

He graduated in Thai Art from the Faculty of Fine Arts, Chiang Mai University, receiving the Outstanding Thesis Award in 2017. While teaching art full-time, he has continued to build an independent studio practice, developing a visual language that combines symbolic imagery, layered surfaces, and expressive brushwork.

Much of his work begins with ordinary experiences—commuting, waiting, eating alone, or moving through familiar urban spaces. Rather than documenting these moments, he transforms them into paintings that reflect the emotional weight carried beneath everyday routines. His practice is less about the city itself than about the people living within it, questioning how modern life influences identity, relationships, and our sense of self.

Over the years, Napat’s work has evolved from personal emotional narratives toward a broader exploration of contemporary urban psychology. Through images that feel both familiar and open to interpretation, he invites viewers to find their own experiences within the work and to notice the emotions that often pass unnoticed in daily life.

The Urban Phantom

The Urban Phantom
Size: 86 × 66 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
While traveling on the BTS, I noticed how many people avoid eye contact, each absorbed in their phones or private thoughts. Even when standing only a few steps apart, they feel strangely distant from one another.

This work reflects the growing sense of distrust embedded in urban life. Fear leads people to create emotional distance, causing sincerity and communication to gradually fade. A city full of people thus becomes a space where loneliness quietly expands.

Caged Innocence

Caged Innocence
Size: 56 × 46 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
As we grow older, we all go through disappointments and experiences that make us more guarded. I, too, once built emotional walls to protect myself, only to realize that those walls do not only block pain—they also block sincerity from others.

This work speaks about the loss of innocence and the courage to remain open. The cage in the painting is not a physical one, but a mental structure created by our own thoughts. It invites viewers to reflect on how excessive self-protection may cause us to miss meaningful moments in life.

Lunch Break

Lunch Break
Size: 80 × 60 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
During the workday, lunch break is a short moment when I pause from teaching and eat alone. Although it is a simple routine, it becomes a time when I observe people around me and reflect on my own thoughts most clearly.

This work reflects the quietness hidden within urban life. Often, we spend the entire day responding to expectations from work and society, forgetting to ask ourselves how we truly feel. Even a few minutes of pause becomes a small space where we can reconnect with ourselves again.

The Apathy Float

The Apathy Float
Size: 80 × 60 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
This work comes from a period when I tried to handle everything on my own—work, art practice, and life—believing that not relying on anyone was a form of strength. Over time, however, I realized that isolating myself from others gradually diminished both my relationships and my sense of happiness without me noticing.

The painting reflects the idea of Extreme Self-Reliance through a space that appears safe but slowly becomes a place of isolation. The character drifts within a self-constructed world, as if protecting itself from the outside, while simultaneously losing the chance to connect with others. The work raises a question: sometimes what we believe protects us may, in fact, become the very barrier that distances us from happiness.

The Way Home

The Way Home
Size: 80 × 60 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
After teaching, I often stand holding onto the BTS rail on my way home. The atmosphere in the evening is noticeably different from the morning; urgency is replaced by silence and exhaustion. People are returning to their own spaces, carrying thoughts accumulated throughout the day.

This work captures the transition between professional duty and personal life. For me, going home is not just about returning to a place, but about a moment of reflection—letting go of pressure and gradually reconnecting with myself before beginning again the next day.

Vertigo of the Soul

Vertigo of the Soul
Size: 55 × 46 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
There are moments when the success of others makes me question my own sense of worth. Even though I know everyone has a different path, comparison still arises instinctively.

This work reflects how envy does not harm others, but slowly erodes our own confidence. When we focus only on what we lack, we forget what we already have, and gradually lose emotional balance without realizing it.

Morning Commute

Morning Commute
Size: 80 × 60 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
Every morning, I travel to teach by BTS, and I see the same scene repeating: many people sharing the same space, yet barely anyone makes eye contact. Everyone is absorbed in their phones, thoughts, or responsibilities. These moments have become so routine that they often go unnoticed.

This work captures the beginning of the day while questioning whether we are moving toward the lives we truly choose, or simply following the rhythm of the city. Among the crowd, everyone carries unseen stories, hopes, and anxieties that remain invisible to others.

Waiting for Myself

Waiting for Myself
Size: 80 × 60 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
This work emerges from feelings I experience while living in the city. Many times, I find myself performing different roles throughout the day—teaching, commuting, creating artworks, and managing responsibilities—until I barely have time to ask myself how I truly feel.

In a life that moves so quickly, pausing becomes increasingly difficult. The figure in the painting exists in a state of waiting, not for someone else, but for the return of the self into the present moment. This work reflects the idea that what we are searching for may not always be a new achievement or destination, but rather a reconnection with ourselves after being carried away by the rhythm of the city and the expectations of society.

Waiting for Myself is a moment of reflection, acceptance, and self-recognition—before continuing forward with greater clarity and understanding.

The Miniature Home

The Miniature Home
Size: 36 × 36 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
Home is the place where I usually return to rest both physically and mentally. However, living amid the competition and expectations of the city, I began to feel that the simple happiness I once knew has been replaced by an endless desire for something new, to the point where I sometimes fail to recognize the value of what I already have.

This work reflects the idea of Entitlement through a small house that represents personal happiness in life. As expectations grow larger, the house feels smaller—not because it has changed, but because our perception has shifted. The work invites viewers to question whether true happiness is not found in what we are constantly seeking, but in what has always been with us.

The Traffic of Desires

The Traffic of Desires
Size: 66 × 46 cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Concept
Living in the city, I constantly see people rushing and competing, including myself at times, comparing success with others and forgetting to appreciate what I already have.

This work compares comparison itself to being stuck in traffic—everyone trying to get ahead, yet no one noticing the small meaningful things along the way. Happiness is not about arriving first, but about recognizing the value of the journey we are already on.