Partly I wanted to show off the wall near my workplace. And perhaps the face of the author of this blog can also be interesting.
4 years ago, I didn't even have a desktop. And I drew on the floor. I drew while the child sleeps (next to the crib) at night.
And now I have a space created for work, and walls on which I can safely hang images for inspiration. Previously, we lived in a rented apartment, in which it was impossible to attach anything to the walls.
And 4 years ago, I didn't consider myself an artist. I came to this self-identification much later.
I've "fallen" so often in all that time... This endless swing - I was created for drawing, and no, it's not mine, you need to try something else. Long breaks in activity. Slow learning process.
Thanks to drawing, I formed a character in myself. The belief that if I fell, it does not mean that I am bad and do something wrong. Falling is partly normal, and it's part of the way.
And yet, 4 years ago, it was difficult for me to talk about my feelings, my experience to strangers. I remember how excited I was when I was typing the text for publications. I can't say that this feeling left me completely. I'm more of a drawing master than a storyteller.
Thank you so much for your support, without you I would not have been able to go this way.