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How art came to my life

Updated: Apr 2, 2020

First things first, writing a blog is a new challenge that I have accepted.

It will be a challenge for me, because I always avoided putting my thoughts into words. But I accepted this challenge it as I see it as an alternative way of keeping a diary and at the same time share the important steps in my life. Or even the less important thoughts that I make. Still it will be my extra way of expressing myself.

I believe my first blog post must start from the beginning. How did it all start? How did art come to my life?

Well, it came naturally. I was born into art. My mum was an artist. She had studied architectural, linear and freehand design. She used to work as an architect assistant for many years and then continued her career with drawing on ceramics. In her free time, despite being a mother of four, she would make oil paintings for personal use or commissions. Our house was always full of artworks. On the walls all her favourite paintings were hung, and still are, with the far most favourite of mine a female ballet dancer in purple background. Then there would be a corner next to the living room, where the works in progress would be ready to kick start whenever free time was found. And then somewhere in my parents bedroom, as if it were a secret location, my mum kept her old art work from her design classes. Second best to trying on her lipstick and anything else I would find in her handbag, was to go through her old drafts and paintings on paper. It was a sanctuary moment.

No one can say that I was a genius kid in art, that I would make ten artworks per day, all with a deep meaning. No! Painting was my favourite hobby, and my way to travel out of my bedroom, out of my boredom. My most frequent painting would include mountains, a sun and a green grass with pink and yellow flowers. Then as I grew up I would paint many female looks, with different style each of them. Either only their face, or full body, where the fashion stylist inside me would go wild. All in groups of four, for some reason. Another very dear activity I would voluntarily get into was to help my teachers decorate the classroom; either for Christmas or any other national bank holiday event. So my teachers would point out my excellent feel of aesthetics and explain to the rest of the classroom the meaning and importance of this skill. That was when I realised I have a great gift from my mother. And for this I thank her with this post.

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