The world of nail art is furiously competitive and filled with wordplay. Jonny, 32, is manager of Penrith salon Nailicious and was named "champion of champions" at last year's Nailympia Australia. He didn't compete this year, focusing instead on being named Nail Magazine's Next Top Nail Artist.

The competition's final 12 nail artists from around the world include Cate and Katey, and Lisa and Liza, and Tracey and Tracy. There is only one Jonny.

Every nail artist has a journey. Jonny's started inside a refugee camp in China, where he was born to Vietnamese parents who fled their homeland for a better life. At the age of seven, he escaped with his mother, two sisters and three other families, clambering over a fence at 2am.

Their small boat ran out of fuel , somewhere in the deep, and bobbed in rough waves in the dark until a passing cargo ship gave them some petrol. "Are you going for a holiday," asked Hong Kong border patrol as they neared the shore. "No, we are looking for a better life," his mum said.

They were interred for a further four years there, sleeping four to a single bed. "It is tough in a refugee camp," Jonny says. "You see people having a hard time, getting depressed, going crazy. There is no health care, the same food every day, no education."

He learnt to draw manga cartoon characters to pass the time and discovered a love of art. He was 11 when his family was finally granted entry to Britain. His older sister Kim started a nail salon near their home in south-east London. Jonny started drawing designs for her clients after school.

In about 2004, he dropped out of a computer science degree and moved to Australia, to run a nail salon with his sister Helen, at the rear of a shopping arcade in Penrith.

He's busy working there last Thursday, bent over the pointed nails of local lighting and electrical consultant Tara Micallef, 27, when I drop by. The acrid smell of nail sculpting liquid is in the air. "Nails are all about art, about expressing yourself," Jonny says. "I can help a client channel the way they are feeling through their nails. It's an art form. We are working on tiny little canvases."

He has a slight frame, steady hands and a lovely soft smile. Fingernails say much about a person, he says, glancing at my gnawed claws. He starts by matching a colour to each client's personality: beige, perhaps, for someone reserved; hot pink for a lively soul. His favourite colour is green. His favourite nail colour is snow-white, which shows up the fine detail in his teeny paintings.

"You've got to care about the client, about the way they feel when they walk into the salon," he says. "Being a good nail artist is not just about doing good nails, you have to understand what they want."

Tara wants to be pretty and to sell lots of lighting and electrical products. She thinks her hands are short and stubby. "You'd be surprised how good having your nails done makes you feel," she says."You don't want to look like a bogan every day." Or any day, I say. "Yes," she says.

Jonny grinds away the coating on her old nails, spraying fine, coral-pink powder over his black jumper. A nail artist must chart a course between a mess of contradictions: to make each nail different but cohesive; to show restraint while wanting each finger to stand out.

His mind is a whirl of elaborate patterns and swirls. He starts freestyling with acrylic which he custom-makes for each client, first mixing acrylic powder and liquid, and then pressing it into shape with a small brush. Beautiful pastel-peach flowers bloom on Tara's fingernails.

Every nail artist has a signature style. Jonny Tupac's shtick is intricate designs and fine lines. For the "travel" section of Next Top Nail Artist, he painted minuscule models of the Eiffel Tower, London Eye and Sydney Harbour Bridge onto a set of three centimetre-long nails. Every week, someone is asked to leave the competition – like a reality TV show for fingers. On Friday , judges placed him in the contest's top three, praising his "fine detailing and sculpting".

Nail art competitions can be tense affairs. In some cases, entrants are caught cheating by pre-preparing tips or foils to fit the fingers of their nail model. Be kind to your model, the rules for Nailympia say. "Keep [them] fed and well hydrated throughout the competition day."

The fantasy section of nail art competitions is like couture fashion – not suitable for supermarket shopping. For last year's Nailympia, Jonny created small gay figurines in suits, in support of same-sex marriage. "When I do an artwork I like to have a message behind it," he says. "For me, it is not just about being colourful. I believe in equality in love and I think everyone deserves to be happy."

He wants to compete until he is tired, and then compete some more. Two hours down and Tara's nails are done. Jonny positions her hands under bright lights and photographs them for Instagram, where he has more than 25,000 followers. "You want them to walk out of the salon saying 'Jonny, you made me feel a lot better today'," he says.

Thank you Jonny, you made me feel better today, I say, as I walk out the door. "Welcome to the nail world," he says.