Why am I painting?

I was as a baby at nine-month-old in foster care for a while, after my parents split up.

As a two-year-old toddler I started drawing, when I came back to my birth mother to live with her again. I just always felt the need to express myself to understand the world and feel myself. I felt pain through sadness which I wanted to cure. I thought for some time that I've had two mothers which I only learned to understand as a teenager that I have only one real mother and I love her a lot. Drawing made all the sadness go away which took years. But life always makes you to get through more pain in different situations. But it was also building my own world and understanding my emotions, my world inside my heart

and the outside world of the people around me.

I gotten a younger half-brother at the age of three and I gotten very happy to have my own real sibling, outside of foster care. Life is harder on him though he has been born blind but I'm proud of him how strong he is and how he manages. He is very intelligent and the strongest person I know. We are very close friends. As I was six years old, I was getting a second brother also which is quite a storyteller and I always thought that he would become an author or actor of some sort, because he would have had the talent.

But it isn’t in my hands what he does.

I started in fact with drawing everyday with just the normal equipment’s you can get, pencils, crayons, felt pens and Watercolours I think I've started in primary school, not too sure maybe even earlier. I loved cartoons at a certain age how it’s typical for kids, but I tried drawing those until I've got them right and the kids in school have become jealous about it until some where mean about me able to draw them and they weren’t, and some wanted me to draw it for them. I mostly had haters towards me not many friends at all. But I learned to deal with it by drawing more. Even though I was being bullied a lot becoming a teenager, which I never understood the reason and today I don’t even want to know the reason for it any longer.

I've gotten into a lot of conflicts and misunderstandings with my mother because I've turned into a rebel, simply because I tried to find myself and I had to fight so many haters towards me as a teen, starting in kindergarten my first Bully, because I was smaller than him, he kept on pushing me around and took everything from me away, he made me cry, I never forgot how he made fun of my name and I didn't want to be seeing as weak, because I'm not.

I’ve got tired of copying the cartoons of the tv as a nine-year-old and started creating my own, because an inner voice told me that it was better to do so and that I can. So, I did.

Besides only two friends through this lifetime from kid to teen has only one real one remained until still today, which is sadly distant but still real. Distant only because of living far apart. I think of her every day.

Besides I had grown a different hobby on the side of crocheting and knitting which brings me closer to my mother simply because that’s what she loves doing best, in my opinion she is the best knitter on the planet.

It’s her Art. At the age of fourteen I’ve completed my own summer top in two weeks or so. I love working with wool also, but I need to focus mostly on my drawing which is my hunger and thirst.

I loved one old Book filled with animals which belonged my mother, I’ve borrowed it to read and draw what inspired me to do so. And on the side, I drew my own cartoons developing it with pastel chalks it grew from there to portrait and nude drawings at fifteen looking from books.

At age thirteen I’ve got my first canvas and easel to work with as a gift. I experimented with it and my abstract journey begun than. Well, I can say that I created already all my life without question and without being taught by anyone else but myself.

I only started thinking that I am an artist as teenager because I started hearing the term, but I didn’t know about artists than except myself. Drawing became almost addictive, and I could never live without it, I needed to feed my soul by creating and I still do now. I made more and more my own ideas come to life since young adult hood and I feel like having so many ideas to do, that one lifetime won't be enough.

There is so much more to say about my ability to create and what I’ve gone through to achieve it, but that could be as long as a book.

Drawing developed into painting.

The painting hunger is never satisfied so I'll continue until I die.