Childhood and Rhubarbs Painting

Painting is not just a process. It is a place where I go completely alone, a place that only I am able to see and where only my inner being is able to get in. When I take a brush in my hand, all the worries flutter away like autumn leaves and all the masks shown to society are taken off. I have no past and no future, there are no thoughts in my head that could annoyingly drill. The painting is like a door and in front of it I take off all excess, inhale and open the beautiful world of colours. Can it be called a meditation? This word is too banal nowadays, it has been trampled in the puddles of stereotypes. Therefore I would referre to painting as a coalescence with true nature, the song of my soul. In addition, artistic creation is written in my stars, or, to be more precise, in my birth certificate - ARTA (Art in Romanian).