TRIPTYCH «Tempest» Painting

I am YULIA PILSHCHIKOVA. Artist's nickname YLA PIL. I was born and live in Magnitogorsk, Russia, South Ural. After university, I abandoned art for 19 years. In the summer of 2019, the craving for creativity reappeared. To create, I do not need alcohol and other drugs, I paint all my paintings in a stream of white light. When I immerse my consciousness in a stream of white light, images, drawing techniques, and the meaning that I want to convey to the viewer come to me. I putting all the depth of the human soul into the paintings. The soul is a guest in this world. The mystery lies in it's solution. If You don't start looking, you won't see ... The most difficult thing is to look into it. If you dare, you will see the beauty. When you get to know the soul, a new universe opens up for you. It is then that the soul is fully revealed. Of course, the viewer always brings their own meaning to the work, which is why I love art. ___________________________________ WHY I STARTED TO DRAW WITH A HAIRDRYER The other day I was asked a question ... "Julia, why is such a strange material as resin, neither oil, nor acrylic, nor watercolor, nor pastel, nor alcoholic ink in the end?" And indeed, how it all began ... After thoght a lot, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, which means an unthinkable journey through the labyrinths of memory and depicting deep mental activity on my face, memories appeared ... Once in the cold winter season ... no, not that ... One summer, at dawn, I had opened my eyes and go out of bed, then useed the shower ... I am late, in a hurry ... but I need to wash my hair ... I don’t remember why I was so in a hurry and overslept). I washed my hair, hastily wiped myself with a towel. I standing dry my hair with a hairdryer ... falling asleep on the go and suddenly ... BOOOOMMM - the hairdryer falls to the floor, but touches a can of paint standing on a shelf along the way ... Cats run to other sides, spray on the other sides, hair dryer like an snake hissing and wriggling ... I have an emotional collapse ... I kneele and take a look over a puddle of paint, it seems that it needs to be removed, but it beckons so treacherously and enchants with its abstract force ... I thought about it... Then a hair dryer punched my forehead ... stars began to play ... and now I am standing at the table and drawing a hair dryer on the resin.