Hedar Abbas Abadi once painted portraits in Saddam Hussein's palace, but today he's much more comfortable in his paint-splashed garage.

"This is a garage, but this is my kingdom," he says. "I play all the time here."

Although he considers his career a form of child's play, Abadi is a respected artist. Since fleeing Iraq in 1992 — first for Jordan then Australia — he has exhibited his works internationally and won several awards.

Abadi says painting nudes is an ode to anatomical science. ( ABC RN: Siobhan Hegarty )

His latest solo exhibition, Save Our Fish From Drowning, is on display at Casula Powerhouse in western Sydney.

"I paint 70 per cent of my artwork and 30 per cent is a surprise for me," says Abadi. "This is the technique."

The artworks are unusual in subject, as well as style. Save Our Fish From Drowning features surrealist, almost sensual figures that are part fish, part female — not exactly what one expects from an Iraqi-born Muslim.

"Really, Islam's easy, but some Muslims do not understand it," he says.

"Shia Muslims are very open-minded people — you can paint anything, you can [make] sculpture, you can [make] music."

Concerned more with his craft than the religious optics, Abadi believes the human form shouldn't be taboo.

Abadi's 2016 work Migrating speaks to the inequality faced by women and refugees. ( Facebook: Hedar Abbas Abadi )

And in his latest series, the decision to paint female figures was motivated by the inequality experienced by women in the Middle East.

"In my country… women are not [treated the] same. This is hard life for women in the Middle East."

Stepping in to translate, Abadi's daughter Mariam, a high school student and aspiring photographer, elaborates: "The woman's always the one who has the most pressure, and has to take care of everything.

After excelling in art studies, Abadi was enlisted as a portraitist for Saddam Hussein. ( Facebook: Hedar Abbass Abadi )

"She can't do whatever she wants — she has no rights in the Middle East."

The aquatic theme makes sense too — Abadi's connection to water runs deep.

Growing up in Babylon, south of Baghdad, he lived 100 metres from the Al-Furat (Euphrates) River and would often play on the banks, creating sculptures from the clay and watching the oil-slicked water create patterns on pieces of paper.

He still employs oil and water today. Many of the paintings in Save Our Fish From Drowning carry wandering lines, an effect of the oil and watery drips.

Abadi's depictions of females and fish invert the mermaid stereotype. ( ABC RN: Siobhan Hegarty )

Despite finding refuge in Australia and success as an artist, Abadi still feels a connection to the waters of his homeland.

"Because I'm refugee in Australia, I feel the same as fish in [an] aquarium," he says.

"Australia is a very beautiful country, with beautiful water … but I would to like swim in my water."