[interview]

Orla Bird

Orla Bird - Magic is in the mundane

D: Hello, Orla! Thanks for agreeing to have a chat with us.

First things first – introductions. Please briefly introduce yourself to our readers: who are you, where are you from, what are your artistic media of choice, and how long have you been active as an artist?

O: I’m an artist, illustrator and tarot deck designer from Zagreb, Croatia. My artistic name is Orla Bird (Orla translates as female eagle in Croatian). Black fineliners are my basic tool, but I also work with photosensitive cyanotype chemicals (they produce a beautiful blue color in contact with UV light) and lately I’ve been using watercolors a lot. Art has always been part of my life – I drew a lot as a kid, then took a long break. I studied architecture, earned a master’s degree, worked in the field for six years, and then found my way back to art in 2017, when I was 29. A few years later, in 2020, I opened my studio for art & illustration and since then it’s been my full-time job. I played around with all sorts of ways to showcase and sell my work over the years. Prints, original art, cyanotypes, tarot decks and undated planners are part of what I offer now, but in the past I also experimented with hand-painted clothes, tapestries and brass jewelry. I also do some client work now and then. Out of everything, and kind of unexpectedly, the tarot decks ended up being what people connected with the most.

 

D: That makes you the second artist with a background in architecture we’ve interviewed on here! It sounds like a fair bit of time went by before you found your way back into the art world. Was there anything specific that drew you back in, or was it just a gradual process?

O: Yeah, for quite some time I wasn’t expressing myself creatively. Because of societal conditioning, I used to view art and illustration as something that could only ever be a hobby. Since I’ve always been very goal-driven, I didn’t allow myself to “waste” time on something that wouldn’t make a big difference in my life. I don’t remember the exact turning point, but I eventually realized that art could become my main source of income and I couldn’t believe I had never seen that possibility before. Societal conditioning is wild.

 

D: Social conditioning is one hell of a drug.

Orla Bird - Zodiac illustration Gemini

Still, not gonna lie – going all-in on the creative work seems like quite a big, bold leap into the unknown, especially in this uncertain day and age. What’s been the most surprising part of living and working as a full-time artist for you so far, strictly from an existential or emotional perspective? Has the career shift led you to any new unexpected realizations or epiphanies (about yourself more so than your work)?

O: Yes, it was a bold leap, but there was always the option of returning to my previous profession. What surprised me most was realizing that when you fully commit to living as a full-time creator, money finds its way to you from unexpected places. During the first year, I worried constantly about not earning enough. Eventually, I noticed that I always had just the right amount to live comfortably – not extravagantly, but never lacking. It felt as though the Universe had my back, though from a rational perspective, I suspect I instinctively knew how much effort was required to secure the necessary income.

Another pleasant surprise was how my desire to spend lessened once I began creating. Becoming the maker of beautiful things left me with almost no interest in buying new clothes or jewelry. My mental energy shifted entirely to imagining projects, leaving little time or space for thoughts of material possessions.

For years, I believed I wasn’t ambitious or career-driven. While I still have no wish to become a big name, I’ve discovered that ambition runs deep – I simply needed to direct it toward what genuinely excites me. Looking back, it’s strange to realize that my self-image, even into my late twenties, was so inaccurate.

D: Well, after all, why waste money on something if you can create it yourself, right?

So, cyanotypes, tapestries, jewelry, hand-painted clothes.. It sounds like you’ve experimented with a lot of different media already. Is there anything on your bucket list you’re still aching to have a go at somewhere down the line?

O: I’d really like to explore fabric art more. I’m not yet sure whether that would take the form of tapestries, clothing, or something else, but I feel very drawn to oriental patterns, weaving, and the idea of expressing myself through the things I wear. If money weren’t such a factor, I’d probably approach this more spontaneously, but in my current circumstances, I constantly need to niche down and market the same products again and again. Still, I don’t really mind, because I also find that side of my job to be very creative.

D: Combining your art style with fabric art would probably lead to some very cool results. I hope you’ll get to give it another shot some day!

Orla Bird - Focus kimono

I wanted to linger on the topic of cyanotypes just a little bit longer. As far as different print media go, it seems like cyanotype is one of the ones you return to most often. What originally drew you to this particular medium, and what is it that keeps you coming back?

O: A cyanotype workshop I attended in 2018 opened my eyes to how perfectly the technique fits my style. My detailed illustrations become even more pronounced when inverted – the fine white lines stand out beautifully against the deep blue background. The process itself feels magical, especially the moment when rinsing reveals the image in seconds. Each cyanotype is unique, even when made from the same illustration, because the process is handmade and unpredictable. That uniqueness is what I love most: unlike regular prints, every piece carries an element of surprise, allowing me to repurpose my work while creating something original each time.

D: That uncertainty is something I like about print art in general! You never quite know what you’re going to get.

Now, since you’ve turned making art into your full-time job, if you had to give just one piece of advice to someone who’s thinking about doing the same, what would it be?

O: I think it’s really important to explore both what excites you and what you can monetize. Where those two things intersect is often where your answer lies 😀 I’d also encourage artists to start selling products featuring their work, like T-shirts, mugs, card decks, whatever feels right. I know some artists prefer to focus solely on fine art, but I think that path can be more challenging. Combining your art with products people use in their daily lives can bring in income, which in turn gives you more time and freedom to create fine art.

Orla Bird - Cyanotype octopii ouroboros

D: Just to make sure we highlight both sides, is there anything you’d recommend newbies absolutely avoid doing, for their own sanity’s sake?

O: Just avoid perfectionism. Don’t overthink every Instagram post, every creative decision, every small move. Just do the work, see what happens, learn, and move forward. Too many creative people stall because they chase perfection on the first attempt, or spend hours agonizing over a caption. At the root of it is fear of judgment – but the truth is, everyone is so preoccupied with their own lives that they aren’t spending hours dissecting what others create.

 

D: On a somewhat related note, this next one is something I’ve been curious about for a while when it comes to artists who live off their work full-time, so I’m interested in hearing your perspective: Has turning your art into your primary source of income changed your relationship with it? Is there still enough space left for you to create purely for your own enjoyment or to attach personal meaning to your pieces when they’re also tied to your livelihood?

O: I often hear people say that turning art into their primary source of income ruined their relationship with it, but that didn’t happen to me. Yes, I spend more than half of my time on marketing, product photography, accounting, packing orders and similar tasks. But when I was working in an architectural office, I actually had even less time for art. Now I can work on my own terms & schedule and I don’t mind the admin side. In fact, I see those tasks as inevitable creative pieces of a larger puzzle that lead me toward my business goals. Another reason I enjoy it is that most of my work isn’t client-based. I create from my own narratives, turn those ideas into products and sell them as they are, without outside influence.

 

D: I guess being the one who holds the reins, creatively speaking, does make a pretty significant difference.

Still, you have done client-based work as well, right? How have those experiences been, generally speaking? And to what extent do you try to hold on to your own creative voice when committing to projects like that?

O: Most clients who reach out want to work with me specifically, so I always do the design in my own style, while respecting client wishes when it comes to motifs, level of detail and symbolism. It only happened once that a client reached out wanting an illustration in a style like Mailchimp’s, so I turned him down because neither of us would have been happy with the outcome. Clients often push me to make additional changes I hadn’t anticipated, so in most cases the final work turns out even better than I planned, but still very much in my style.

 

D: I guess treating a commissioned piece as more of a collaborative project, rather than simply a task to complete, pays off.

Orla Bird - Travelling circus

This next one’s always an interesting one: Who or what have been some of the biggest influences on your work? Were there any artists, authors, or other sources that played a formative role in helping you develop your style?

O: It might not be typical for a visual artist, but I don’t closely follow or study other artists. I occasionally scroll Instagram and save pieces that catch my eye so I can later revisit them and figure out what drew me in. Mostly, though, I rely on my own thoughts, dreams and metaphorical ideas, which I translate into visuals. When I say ‘visions’, I don’t mean literal hallucinations – just that sometimes a fully formed scene appears in my mind out of nowhere and I need to sketch it immediately so I can turn it into a final illustration later. The more I study the world around me and focus on its visual details, the more frequent and intense these visions become. It feels like there’s a pipe you can learn to open, unlocking an endless source of inspiration. I don’t think this source is inside me alone. I’d say it’s accessible to anyone, like downloading from a cosmic wide web.

 

D: Like a kind of collective creative unconscious, then? The more time I spend tinkering around in my collage corner, the more I feel like there must be something of the sort out there.

Considering that your work leans more toward the surreal and dreamlike side of things, would you say that this type of art is more likely to come from this admittedly somewhat nebulous space than something that’s more on the photorealistic side?

O: I haven’t thought about it that way, but yeah, I guess so? Maybe photorealistic art mirrors the outer world, while surrealism maps the inner one – which we share in some sense, I believe.

 

D: Do you think there are certain things that art mirroring the outside world can’t express?

O: I think so. The biggest ‘problem’ with translating art into words is, as I mentioned earlier, that every person will have a different interpretation of the same piece. The general feeling might be similar, but the nuances will always vary, and that’s both the beauty and the unreliability of it. On the other hand, there are certain states that only art can express – feelings for which we simply don’t have words: intense grief, awe, love. I sometimes have strange dreams filled with vivid subconscious imagery. When I wake up, I’m fully aware of what I dreamt and want to write it down, but there just aren’t the right words in our languages for that. So I let it go… or make art >:)

 

D: That’s the spirit! We kind of got sidetracked by all the metaphysical stuff, but let’s loop back to the topic of your work: your illustrations all have a very unique and instantly recognizable aesthetic. Has that always been there, or was it something you arrived at gradually?

O: Thank you. I believe my style has always been within me, I just had to uncover it. Some of my earliest works look remarkably similar to what I create today* – just less technically refined.
When I observe architecture, botanical forms, other artists’ work or even ordinary everyday objects, I find fragments that speak to me and I know I need to incorporate them in my work. I don’t see it as copying or stealing, because what inspires me always transforms into something uniquely mine, not resembling the source object. It’s like discovering scattered pieces of yourself and assembling them into a complete vision.

Orla Bird - Neverending loop

This piece shows a deity in a boat creating life from its tears. Plants sprout from the tear-seeds, holding hoops that enable a never-ending circular dance for creatures that become birds in contact with air and fish in contact with water – symbolizing constant transformation above and below the surface. Life and afterlife. It’s part of my Bathtub Series, which depicts different microcosms inside a tiny tub. The legs in Birks and socks add a touch of humor. Interestingly, I often discover a piece’s meaning long after I’ve finished it. When I was creating it, I knew intuitively it’s about circularity and renewal, but its deeper symbolism emerged over time.

 

D: It really does feel like it’d still fit in with your more contemporary work. Thanks for sharing! So, how does that total understanding of a piece’s meaning usually come to you? Is it also sort of like discovering pieces of a puzzle?

O: It’s like being able to see your piece with fresh eyes after not looking at it for a while. When I’m creating something and I’m too immersed, it’s sometimes hard to step back. But when some time passes after I’ve put the illustration away, I can almost see it as someone seeing it for the first time, and I notice additional layers of meaning I hadn’t seen before. Other times, a surge of inspiration comes mid-work, and I decide to change direction if something new reveals itself to me.

 

D: From my personal experience, those mid-work surges of inspiration can be dangerous sometimes. Have you ever ended up regretting your decision to follow one, or would you say you generally trust what your instinct tells you?

O: Before, I was scared of making the wrong move and I was also paralyzed by too many options. Eventually, I decided to follow my impulses as they appear mid-work. Sometimes I mess things up badly, but I don’t regret it or get mad at myself because I know I tried something new. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t, but those experiments push me to develop my style further.

 

D: Well, whether they end up being successful or not, some occasional experiments can sometimes open new doors for you.

Orla Bird - Faces of metamorphosis

What’s the local art scene like on your end? We’ve featured a few Croatian artists in our zine and on our Instagram page before, but I’d wager the Croatian art world is still a bit of a blind spot for most of our readers. Are there any artists or venues out there that might appeal to those of us who like it weird, dark, or mystical?

O: My social life changed a lot when I started attending art markets in Croatia. I don’t really have a solid group of people who share the exact same aesthetics and interests – it’s more of a mix of different kinds of artists and crafters, including those working in illustration, jewelry, ceramics, sustainable clothing, natural dyes, embroidery, and more. One of the most popular mystical artists from Croatia is OKO (which translates to The Eye). And this year, a new collective of darker artists and crafters emerged: Zora. They organize art fairs, and I think in the future they’re aiming to host even bigger and more diverse gatherings. Their Instagram is @zora.sajam

 

D: Intriguing! I’ll be keeping an eye on that collective. I’m always happy to see more collectives dedicated to the weird and esoteric side of things pop up.

When it comes to participating in these art markets, I’m curious to know what’s harder: making the artwork itself, or putting yourself out there to actually sell it? I’ve attended a fair number of art markets, and even as a visitor it sometimes feels a bit awkward to approach someone. Not sure if that’s just me. What’s your experience being on the other side of that?

O: In 2022, I started attending art markets. Before the first one, I felt anxious, but once it began, it was great. It was incredibly rewarding to see so many people interested in my work and eager to hear about it. Since then, I’ve probably joined around 20 markets. The only drawback is the toll on my energy. As an introvert, I can handle social situations well, but they leave me drained and in need of recovery time. Because of that, I don’t see creating or participating in markets as particularly difficult – other parts of running a creative business are far more challenging!

 

D: Twenty markets in three years? Wow, that seems like a lot. Have you ever had any interactions or experiences at any of the art markets you’ve participated in that were especially memorable?

O: I don’t think I have any particularly dramatic stories to tell. Okay, maybe just one. Most markets feel similar: they last 6–10 hours, you arrive early and spend half an hour arranging your table, the first guests wander in, and you share a coffee with a friend or a new acquaintance at the next booth. Later that coffee often turns into a beer or two and there’s always an afternoon slump when no one visits your table. But as soon as you think the market is over, someone inevitably shows up wanting to buy something you’ve already packed. The only truly unpleasant moment I’ve had was when an older woman approached my table and asked which grand tarot master had trained me. When I explained that I’d simply read a few books, studied online, sketched and created my deck on my own, she became furious and started shouting obscene things. If other vendors hadn’t stepped in to defend me, I’m not sure how it would have ended. Scary!

 

D: Yikes, that’s a prime example of feedback of the unpleasant sort. Hope that was the only time something like that has happened to you!

O: Yeah, most of the time people are really nice and supportive. Even if they don’t like the work, they just walk away from my art booth at markets, and that’s it.

Orla Bird - AVISOMNIA tarot major arcana

D: This next one’s somewhat of a Semioculus interview classic: What have been some of your proudest moments as an artist so far?

O: My proudest moment? Hmm… it was probably when I realized I made it. Or better said: I’m making it as an artist for the time being.

 

D: Are there any pieces you’ve made that are especially near and dear to you?

O: I feel deeply attached to my first tarot deck. It took two years to create and remains the best project I’ve ever undertaken for both my art practice and business. Designing a tarot deck is demanding: the system has 78 cards divided into the Major and Minor Arcana and each card carries a traditional symbolic meaning. For example, the Seven of Wands always represents material abundance, financial independence, and the security gained through effort, discipline, and self-mastery – it’s just depicted differently depending on the artist’s visuals. On top of that, all cards must share the same style, color palette and overall vibe. That level of coordination can be overwhelming, but it pushed me to discover what I’m truly capable of.

 

D: Well, that honestly is quite an achievement! I’ve seen quite many artists’ takes on the Major Arcana, but completing a full deck seems to be less common. What originally drove you to take on this project?

O: Many people ask me that, and to be honest, I’ve forgotten the exact feeling or thoughts that pushed me to create a tarot deck. From this perspective, it feels like such a huge undertaking. I had no idea if it would work, so it almost seems a bit unreasonable that I was so determined to do it. When I started creating my first tarot deck, most people reacted as if I were slightly crazy, or they were just amused by my loony project. When I launched the first edition of 100 copies, it sold out in 48 hours. That completely took me by surprise. While I was expecting some interest and maybe to sell it within a year, I definitely wasn’t expecting that. So I just kept increasing the number of decks in the following editions.

 

D: That is incredible! Do you think there was anything specific that made it resonate with so many people?

O: I have no idea. I can only guess. I’d say symmetrical design satisfies something deep within people – a craving for balance and for making sense of the world around us. Also (I hope this doesn’t sound too boastful) but I think I did a good job keeping the design consistent across all the cards. The color palette is limited, I use recurring elements and I think I managed to create a sense of flow and balance in each card. There’s a lot of repetition in motifs – hands, five types of imaginary plants, animal skulls. I like when a deck feels like a single artwork made up of 78 pieces and I think I managed to achieve that.

 

D: It really does add an extra layer of depth when something sizable like that still feels cohesive as a whole. Did you go into that first tarot deck project with those recurring motifs in mind, or did they only begin to crystallize somewhere partway through the process?

O: First, I made sketches for all the tarot cards in a separate notebook dedicated to the deck project. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t repeating myself or using imagery that felt inconsistent with the rest of the illustrations. Once all the sketches were done, I began creating the final illustrations one by one, in no particular order.

D: You’ve created two decks so far – AVISOMNIA and ROSA OBSCURA. Could you please share a bit about the differences in how you approached each one?

O: The symbolism in AVISOMNIA is revealed through simple imagery – it feels more mystical and otherworldly. It features five types of imaginary plants, one for each suit. The court cards (Pages, Knights, Queens, and Kings) are depicted as figures with animal skulls or heads, suggesting that each court carries the spiritual qualities of a specific animal depending on the suit’s element (air, water, fire, or earth). There are no human figures in AVISOMNIA, so the meanings aren’t as straightforward as in the other deck. ROSA OBSCURA, on the other hand, is based on the Victorian language of flowers. It merges the human body and plants, creating organisms rich with symbolism. Every card features a different plant species, corresponding to the card’s traditional meaning. The figures’ actions are more obvious, so the messages are more direct. I’d say ROSA is probably a better choice for beginners, while those already familiar with the meanings of the cards will have no trouble understanding the more subtle, indirect messages of AVISOMNIA.

D: I like the idea of having a separate deck for those who are already more familiar with the cards’ traditional meanings. Considering all the work you’ve put into these two decks, I’d wager you must’ve spent quite some time with the cards. Do you ever read them for yourself?

O: I sometimes read for myself, but that’s not the core of my relationship with tarot. I enjoy exploring all the visual ways one meaning can be depicted much more.

D: I saw that you recently opened an exhibition together with Helen Birin, another artist. Could you please tell our readers a bit more about that one? How did the idea come into being, what was the underlying concept, and so on?

O: We opened an exhibition at Gallery CEKAO in Zagreb – I was honestly so proud of myself for getting the chance to exhibit there. Helena and I didn’t know each other beforehand. We sent our applications separately. The jury putting together the 2025 program immediately recognized our work as ‘krivi par’ (the name of our exhibition, meaning ‘wrong couple’), deciding we were total opposites who would complement each other perfectly. They asked us if we’d like to do a duo show and we said yes. Helena creates huge, vivid, organic, tactile 3D red tapestries inspired by her childhood and the landscape she grew up in. My large-scale cyanotypes, composed of several smaller pieces that form a bigger picture, are based on my dreams, visions, and the creatures that emerge in my mind. I’m mostly inspired by the unconscious, creating figurative work and she draws from her conscious experiences, creating abstract pieces.

Orla Bird - Cyanotype dance

D: Your works really do complement each other very well! I feel like this is the first time I’ve seen you work in a bigger format like this. What was the experience of putting such massive pieces together like? Was it any different from the way you usually go about things?

O: This is the largest piece I’ve created so far. I realized it’s almost impossible to make a cyanotype of that size in one single sheet, so I decided to build a geometric composition that forms a larger picture. The exact dimensions of both the entire artwork and the individual pieces were determined by technical constraints – the size of the UV lamp box, the foam board the cyanotypes are mounted on, and of course, the composition of the illustration itself. I had to be careful not to accidentally cut a creature’s head in half!

The whole process was long but rewarding, fun but exhausting. Installing it in the gallery space was probably the toughest part. Since everything is handmade, some pieces differ slightly in size, or the angles aren’t perfectly 90 degrees, so assembling it sometimes felt like a mission impossible. But in the end, when you step back and look at it from a distance, those small imperfections fade away, and it looks great as a whole.

I’m definitely planning to work on larger pieces of different kinds. I’ve already started creating bigger watercolor paintings and I love the impact these large works have on me – their sheer size is what impresses me most.

 

D: The process of putting it up sounds like it must’ve been kind of like assembling a jigsaw puzzle..

O: It wasn’t really like assembling a jigsaw puzzle, because I knew exactly where each piece went, and I was putting them on the wall in a precise order. The frustration came from the fact that I was expecting insane precision, and that’s something that’s almost impossible in handmade work assembled from a large number of pieces.

 

D: Do you have any plans for other big projects in the near future?

O: Right now, I’m at a kind of mental and creative crossroads. I feel a strong urge to keep making larger watercolor paintings and to experiment with stranger, hybrid creatures but at the same time I’m drawn to sculptural pottery, large-scale fabric art, punch needle projects, DIY home improvements and developing my oracle deck for creativity. I also want to explore seamless pattern structures and I even thought about transforming those large cyanotypes on paper and foam board into ceramic-tile artworks.

Wow seeing it all written down, it does sound a bit delusional! I’ll definitely have to limit myself to a maximum of two projects at a time. I think I’ll start with the larger watercolor paintings, because I feel my art style is ready for a creative leap. I already have visions and concepts of how I want to approach them and what I might change, but I know I’ll need to explore it on paper – ideas often look better in your head than they do in real life.

 

D: Wow, that really is a long list of potential projects. Good to have a backlog, though. I’m excited to see where the experiments might lead!

With that, we’ve reached the end of this interview. Orla, I’d like to thank you for taking the time to have a chat with me! Traditionally, we always close these interviews off with a general shout-out section. This is pretty much the part of the interview where you get to gush about the good books you’ve been reading lately, life-changing albums you’ve discovered, and that sort of thing. Or, you know, it can also simply be used as a place to plug your friends’ projects and give a general shout-out to whoever you’d like.

O: I like having a long list of projects lined up (although I have to admit, the current one is the longest so far), because I’m never bored or out of ideas. I sometimes feel like I don’t even need to create a business plan – the process that’s apparently going on in the back of my head on some semi-lucid level guides me, and when I look back, the whole creative path makes perfect sense.

I’d just like to give a shout-out to all my art fair and business friends. It would probably be too much to mention everyone by name or brand – or worse, I’d risk forgetting someone. As I said earlier in the interview, my social circle has expanded so much since I started attending art fairs, and I’m thrilled that so many of us are working intensely on our own creative stories. I’ve been listening to Mitski lately. I tend to get a bit obsessive-compulsive about listening to one song, album, or artist for an extended period, which other people often find a bit extreme 😀