Omelet Painting

As a child, I painted on wallpaper. On the table. On everything that came to hand. On the polished cabinet door I saw the contours of lush trees, the warm sun, a cheerful child. And I just gave shape to the fact that it is obvious to me that the people around can see it too. Mom scolded me for a spoiled desk, and dad covered it with glass. But I still continued, confident that in time I would become a real artist ... Good day. I am Angelica, 44 years old, franchise director. Here's a twist. As a result, I spent my whole life selling other people's goods and services. Spinning like a squirrel in a wheel, taking care of a career and money. Yes, I continued to draw live sketches, painted in oils. But the paintings and drawings went "to the table", only for me. Then the evil coronavirus came and put me at home. During these two months I realized that I did not want to live as before. More precisely, I can’t do that anymore. Imagine a business woman in her ninth month of pregnancy. She likes her job and is interested in working. She pulls with a decree to the last. If her will, she would have pulled further. But here he comes, that very day. Fights begin, and the baby asks for the light, he demands freedom. The water is leaving. A woman rushes to the hospital. All other "important matters" suddenly fade into the background. I feel like a busy woman. Ideas have long been ripe, they are already cramped inside. They demand to be released and will no longer wait ... Now I paint in oil every day. I began to maintain pages on social networks and upload my artworks. I want to talk about them so that you see my ideas, understand them. And wanted to take these works for yourself, sharing my point of view.