Painting the soul

I have been asked to write about painting.

About painting through soul.


2nd painting: Watersigns. 2005

¬†There are thousands of ways how to paint. I have been grown up through kids art schools, school drawing lessons and professional drawing courses. There was training of hand, finding the composition, feeling the colour. And finding something about it, that’s yours. Expression. But, somehow, it still was conventional.

When I was 13 years old, I met self-trained artist. She was more of a soul-speaker, but she translated some of it into the colours of her beautiful paintings. I saw her paintings and they amazed me, but I didn’t try it until she figured out my talent and described me the technique. she just told me one day: “It’s your thing! Just switch your mind of, let your hand take the colour and watch, how your hand draws lines. Watch it, and don’t disturb with your mind.” I trusted it.

I did a couple of colourful sketches on the paper (first sketches dated 2005). Feeling was strange. I was amazed, that there WAS something coming out. I was even more amazed knowing, that all of it was meaningful.


1st painting: Together, 2005

After couple of try-outs on paper, I took canvas. It was huge canvas. It was first canvas in my life (first canvas is HUGE for the artist!) I took acrylic colours for the first time in my life. And I got my first painting on. Just couple of years later I got to know, that it was an illustration of place I am supposed to live and description of family I am supposed to be part of in the future (then-future).

This painting was good. But second one (see on top of the page) blew my mind off! When I saw myself painting it (first time EVER touching oil colours): my soul was sold. I had found my way with the colours.

I love moment when I have to hush my mind. I love silence I go into, when I’m painting. I love concentration on creation, without knowing what’s going to come out through my hand. I love to watch how painting unfolds. Moment by moment I get glimpses of the new picture. While unfolding, picture tells its story. I love meaningfulness of every line. I love that painting is smarter than me. I can tell part of the paintings story, but there are layers of information that even I can’t put into the words. Those layers stay:¬†for many souls to be seen and some special people to be understood.