For two long years, I felt like I was drowning. Depression, disappointment, and failure weighed heavy on my shoulders, and every day felt like a battle that I couldn’t win. I stopped painting – something that had once been my greatest passion – and felt like I had lost a part of myself in the process.
But one day, something inside of me snapped. I couldn’t keep living like this. I needed to find a way to break free from the pain and start living again. And so, I made a decision that would change everything.
Every night, after dinner, I picked up my paintbrush and let my creativity flow onto the canvas. At first, my paintings were terrible – the work of a rusty and broken artist. But slowly, day by day, I started to find my way again. I painted a girl wearing the elements of the earth as clothes, and it was a thought experiment that felt like a small triumph.
As I continued to create, I started to feel alive again. The colors on the canvas began to represent a rebirth, a new beginning. And with every brushstroke, I felt my heart sliding into the colors – living in painting, in a way that felt like pure magic.
I started to experiment with new techniques and styles, playing with color and light in ways that I had never done before. And with every painting that I created, I felt like I was learning something new about myself and the world around me.
It wasn’t easy – there were still tough days, and hopeless comments from others that made me feel like giving up. But every night, after dinner, I would return to my paintings and feel the hope that they gave me. They were a reminder that there was still beauty in the world, and that I had the power to create it.
Slowly but surely, I started to see a change in myself. I started to feel more confident, more alive. I started to reconnect with the people around me, and to see the world in a new light.
And then, one day, something amazing happened. I had just finished a painting of a sunset over a calm sea, and I took it outside to look at it in the fading light. And as I stood there, admiring the colors and the way they blended together, I realized that I was happy. Truly and completely happy, in a way that I hadn’t been for years.
That was the moment when I knew that painting had saved me. It had given me a way to express my pain and my hopes, to reconnect with the world around me, and to find my way back to happiness. And it had reminded me that no matter how dark things may seem, there is always a way forward – a way to find the beauty and the joy that make life worth living.
And so I continued to paint, night after night, creating new worlds and new stories with every stroke of the brush. And I knew that as long as I had my art, I would always have a way to live, to hope, and to dream.
And that is the story of how I found my way back to life through art – the story of “Living in Painting”.