Its A Long Way To The Top Painting

Making pictures is one of the earliest memories I recall. Even before learning the alphabet, I was drawing my surroundings. Over the years, there has never been a period where I haven't wanted to draw. If you could look at my life, if you had been at my side all this time, you would be convinced that I have never wanted to be, nor do I want to be, anything but a painter. I remember for example, as a student I would fill my books not with notes, but with sketches of my teachers and classmates. When I finished school and the working day was done, I would return home, my only desire to draw late into the night. Even though I am now a professional artist, I sometimes look back at those moments as the roots of my creativity. It all started as a statement of autonomy, a pure act that nothing outside myself influenced or affected it. But above else, I drew because I enjoyed doing so. Nothing compares in consistency and meaningfulness than making art. Even during those unavoidable times when we are challenged and our lives are affected by sudden change, loss, or pain, being an artist has given meaning to it all, transforming suffering into healing. Every piece reflects a story that only life itself could tell.