Yutong Liu
- Anna Lilli Garai
- Sep 26
- 4 min read
Yutong Liu is an illustrator and animator whose work often draws from everyday moments. She captures how people move through the world, both physically and emotionally, with a focus on subtle gestures and small details. In her series Digital Nomads, she looks at the pace and pressure of remote work through light, humorous images that still carry weight. Yutong’s digital compositions often start from personal reactions or observations, and even in her animated pieces, there's a quiet, reflective tone that runs through her work.
Q: What first pulled you toward mixing pause and motion in your images?
A: I’m drawn to creating images with a sense of rhythm, because I believe that rhythm carries power. By adding this sense of motion, I aim to amplify the strength of my work. Another reason is that I enjoy making my images move — through animation — whether slowly or quickly. To me, every change in a frame holds emotion and feeling, and I want my audience to sense that through my work. This love for animation influences how I approach still images: I use dynamic elements or flowing lines to convey shifts and transitions, trying to create the impression that the image is about to move in the next moment. In this way, I hope to transmit emotions from my illustrated world to my audience.
Q: In "Digital Nomads" you show both the rush and the burnout. What part of that world feels most personal to you?
A: For me, it’s definitely the "rush." Having freedom in both space and time means I can work remotely anywhere, anytime. But every time I do that, the change of environment often brings unexpected surprises, and the flexibility of time usually leads me to squeeze in seemingly higher-priority tasks before a deadline. As a result, I often end up pushing myself to work at higher efficiency right before the cutoff — which makes everything feel rushed. Fortunately, I’m quite efficient and can usually deliver the best possible outcome by the deadline. So yes, it’s rushed, but I see it as the cost of freedom. I don’t feel burned out by it — I actually enjoy working in an environment free from rigid constraints.
Q: You work on editorials, covers, and animation. What changes for you when the format changes?
A: On one hand, my visual style shifts. For editorials and covers, the workload is much smaller compared to animation, so I can draw with more precision, add more details, and use finer brushstrokes.
On the other hand, my way of storytelling also changes. Animation, though labor-intensive, gives me more space to build emotion and unfold a narrative gradually — since I create frame-by-frame, I can expand the story. Editorials and covers, however, must convey the essence within a fixed size, helping explain the accompanying text or concept. They require more distillation and concentration — I can’t unfold everything as I do in animation. Also, since many editorials and covers are commercial, I need to create an immediate visual impact, something that captures the audience at first glance, rather than slowly guiding them through a story as animation can.
Q: A lot of your pieces come from everyday scenes. What makes you stop and turn one into a drawing?
A: Honestly, as an illustrator, I don’t have the kind of boundless imagination that some CG artists do — I can’t create a completely fantastical world that exists only in my head. I’m also someone who pours emotions into my illustrations. I need to feel something, to have a real emotional response, before I can create something that might move my audience. Because if I feel nothing, I can’t infuse emotion into my work, and the image will feel flat, lifeless, and unable to touch anyone. So, how do I evoke emotions? By truly stepping into my everyday life, feeling every second, every beat of it, and then transforming that emotion into a visual form — gently telling my audience: Look, I may not be creating a brand-new world, but this is my world, the one I live in, honestly and deeply. That’s why I remind myself: "With eyes wide open and heart unveiled — feel life, record its pulse, and embrace its wild beauty." This is the core creative philosophy I live by.
Q: Your symbols can be funny and biting at the same time. How do you know when one really works?
A: Honestly, I don’t know for sure if a symbol really works until it reaches my audience. My first instinct is simply to express what I feel inside. As I mentioned earlier, I follow my emotions — if I feel something, I channel it onto the page. In "Digital Nomads," if you’re able to pick up on those symbols that are both funny and biting, then perhaps I’ve succeeded — they’ve worked. Because in many ways, the life of a digital nomad is also part of my own experience. I’ve felt it, I’ve understood it, I’ve formed emotions about it — so it’s there in my work. And if you’ve felt it too, then I think I’ve done my job.
Q: Has working with such a global theme as remote life changed the way you see your own daily routine?
A: Yes, absolutely. To be honest, creating illustrations is both an outward and inward journey. When I receive a theme or a brief, I first research it — an outward process: understanding what it is, what people have said about it, how it impacts human life. Then I try to experience it, to get closer to it, to feel it, so emotions can form. After that comes the inward process: transforming that research and emotion into imagery. It’s an internalization, a kind of self-reflection. It’s not a straightforward translation; instead, I constantly examine and question myself — how does this affect me? If I were in this situation, what would I do? Only after this introspection does the visual take shape. I believe this makes the resulting emotion more powerful and authentic. It’s also beneficial because when audiences ask me about my work — its story, how I created it — I can explain it fully and clearly, not vaguely or mechanically.
