Akhibara Station by Della Vaz in Toronto

I created this painting in Japan in March 2025, a month that really altered who I am now. It was my first time stepping out of the rhythm I had known all my life - school, structure, familiar expectations - and into a place where I could finally meet myself without noise. Being on the other side of the world stripped away the chaos I had been carrying. In that quiet, I began to understand who I was becoming at the mere age of 22. As a form of comfort, I returned to painting the people I love. My best friend Lauren rests in the bottom right corner, her soft curls and easy smile grounding me across oceans. In the top left, my father and his parents appear like a memory carried across time, their presence a reminder of where I come from. At the center are two figures I met on my first day in Japan, standing in a train station while I was completely lost in Akhibara Station. The grandfather smoked a cigarette; the young boy chewed on a popsicle stick. What a small, perfect duality. He noticed I was a foreigner and asked if I would speak to his grandson so he could practice. For five minutes, we talked. They were kind, curious, open (with the help of google translate). When I explained why I was there, they let me take their photo. It was the first real conversation I had ever had alone, in a place where no one knew my name, my history, or my culture. It felt like breathing for the first time. Stations holds that moment of freedom: the collision of past and present, the people who shaped me, and the strangers who welcomed me. Through layered colour and intertwined figures, this painting traces the journey of finding myself in a place far from home; realizing I was never truly alone.