I still remember the smell of those first tempera paints I used as a boy, learning to paint on Fabriano paper.
Oil painting, back then, felt unreachable. Intimidating.
Even art school didn't teach me. It was all exercises: straight lines, proportions, copying plaster casts, little squares painted in watercolor or acrylic with perfect color gradations.
There was little space for imagination. I had to do exactly what the teachers said, no questions. Good grades, or the money my parents paid was wasted. They didn't trust my abilities anyway.
For my family, knowing how to draw landscapes or human figures was never considered real work. Even after I finished school, no one offered me a chance to express my art.
I had to find a job. Bring money home.
There was no time to learn oil painting properly. And no one ever taught me.
So I taught myself. With the first money I earned from a job I never liked, I bought canvases and paints. In brief moments of rest, I started experimenting.
That was over thirty years ago.
Today, I'm no longer afraid of oil painting. And even though my family still shows no interest or recognition of my abilities, through sheer willpower I've carved out a small piece of recognition here on Nostr.
The only place where my art is loved and appreciated.
The only place that's allowed me to sell my paintings around the world.
From the United States to New Zealand. From Canada to Sweden. From France to Madeira.
Everywhere, there are people who believed in me.
And some still support me.
Thank you. 🙏🫂🎨
#art #artstr #painting #isolabellart
