I was born in the land of Artists. One was playing with canvas and brushes, second with textiles, there was also an artists with horseshoes. There were amazing people changing already existing things into something else, and those awesome creating completely something new…

… they taught me it is good, to feel something strange. This amazing need to explore my feelings, playing with imagination and being free. They were free spirits. So always busy, but also open and ready to show something different than so called… boring and unnatural “normal” world.

Most of them was so full of colors…

So I started to create… build stories and pictures in my head, and trying to make them alive, until someone told me, that I am bad in it.

Completely useful.

Someone who should not destroy a child… someone who should only protect a kid, who a child always believes.

And I stopped.

I believed that I am nothing, and was growing up with this feeling. After ages, I got sick. I also became adult, so called, never matching the definition… and I tried to paint and write everything out of me. All those prepared shapes finally started to come out of me. I am still sick, I still know how huge sadness can be, how destroying is a fear and how painful… But this everything, all those stories, years, people, and also the depression, they whispered to me, that now, standing on the edge, I have nothing to lose…

They shaped me!

I still think that I am nobody, useless piece of the world, but I can not stop painting and writing. Got rewards, should be a bit changed at least, but nope. This is still me, that kid, so happy and full of ideas, when someone said: You can do everything, and then so called Mother destroyed it by saying: You are nothing and will never be someone. There are demons who touch us when we are young and leave their piece in our souls. This is mine. But still, even nobody, created by a painful childhood, can do… anything.

Because there is also place in this world, for those “nobodys” like me! Someone have to be one!