Not so long ago, someone directly told me that my art sucks, and my painting sucks and Im a bad artist. Yes, I got hurt a little but I never forget those words. I knew that like wine, art skills will only improve and get better in time. I used those words to continually improve on myself, my observation skills, my technical skills, my art. Art unlike people is very gentle and forgiving like that. I never got the support from my own family - my mother thought it was just a phase. From when I was 8, I knew I had a fire in me. That fire was contained so many times, but three decades later, I am still at it, feeding that fire. I will never stop. No one really believed in me. I never lost hope for myself. Like a true friend, my pencils, paints and brushes give me that sense of comfort, trust, happiness, reliability and freedom even I cant get from other people. In the end, those are all what matters. Goodnight.
Posted on: Sat, 25 Oct 2014 06:37:23 +0000
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