Flower world / Wildflowers1 Painting

I am Natasha Shoebel. Though my name sounds German, I am Russian by origin. I was born in Russia in 1975. My parents were both engineers, but I have always had a fancy for painting. Since the time I could hold a pencil, I always painted everything I saw. Once at school drawing lesson, a substitute drawing teacher, a professional artist, came to our class. By some strange reason he disliked my pictures. No matter how hard I worked, he would be dissatisfied. I simply could not understand what he wanted. Eventually, he told me that I couldn’t draw. It was a life-long trauma for me. I was only an eight-year old girl then, too small to question his authority. That’s why I closed myself from the world of art for a long time. Each time I touched pencils or brushes, the harsh voice of that artist sounded in my head and making me feel unimportant and miserable. 26 years passed since then – a lot of time, the whole life. In the meantime I tried a lot of classes, made an excellent career as a lawyer, wrote documents and spoke in court. But job without love resulted in emotional burnout. Throughout my life, I wouldn’t stop dreaming about art. But despite the imposed disbelief in myself, there was no restraining my creative energy. I would constantly do needlework, beadwork, make dolls. In this difficult period, my fortune widely smiled at me, giving me a magical man as a precious gift – my husband. He made me and my daughter move to his home in Germany, surrounded us with love and care, and returned me the joy of life. For a long time I couldn’t decide on what to do in a new place. I would ask myself, in what area I could realize my abilities and talent. By no means I want to go in for the accursed jurisprudence. And then one day, my daughter asked me to take her to an art store. She wanted to buy acrylic and some special brushes. I stood frozen in front of the door to this large store, feeling a child who is about to take some difficult exam. Reminiscences of the drawing teacher, my tears, my disappointment swirled and swirled in my head. I can’t say how long I stood there. Luckily, a seller noticed my indecision and bewildered look. She asked me if I was all right and helped to choose the things I was looking for. But what struck me like thunder, was her phrase: “Go ahead! What are you afraid of?” And all of a sudden it dawned on me, that all I have to do is to make one small step which is a giant leap to my cherished dream.