First meeting Drawing

I often asked myself: - Who am I in this world? Such a question does not circumvent any person who has come to the world of art. Maybe because she was born on board an airplane in the most endless sky? That is why at one time she was a stewardess, constantly changing the residence of Moscow-Peter. Until she became a mom. Returning under the parent wing, in the harsh Siberian expanses that determined the creative path. From the mistress of a personal institution of a cafe with a pumped concept, to the complete connection of herself with the world of artistic creativity. For women, it is often the discovery of their true potential to have children. It was no exception. In the very conception of a small life inside me, I dreamed, my gift, my youngest daughter Aurora. Asking her to paint her portrait and give it a name. She showed through the dreams of Morpheus the past life of her mother - in which she is an artist. Clearly and realistically, I reproduced paintings in my sleep, from the smell of canvas, the smell of oil, paints. Drawing! I was an artist! "What's not happening to pregnant women!" I thought, waking up in the morning. And the path was already predicted by a trip to the nearest store, for the necessary materials of the first portrait... You never know?! The world has turned upside down! Touching in a pencil sketch of the sheet, I saw the soul! It was MY supreme purpose that met me. With their own hands through creativity, angels began to speak inside. They gave inexhaustible potential for studying all kinds of drawing techniques. The soul of any living creature is the eyes! Man, beast, bird, everything; who has at least part of the meaning carry inside the invisible "Self." And it's like it says... Look, compare to a flame, a fire, a simmering coal. Everyone has their own. Apparently, in connection with this manifestation, portraits are the basis of my artistic road. When I look through them, the very essence, aura and true component speaks. Absorbing energy soaks through, and you cease to belong to yourself. Everything goes away. He lets go when the work is over. My life! My goal! My component belongs only to the art world. I'm an artist! Embodied by the will of fate, destiny and whether anything else... There is no other way and there will be no more.