Drawing is all right, but painting... is like "working" in heaven. The silk waiting for the swirl of colours stretches proudly as the paint runs across it, to finally wrap itself around one's neck like a sublime poem.
As a child I was always busy with colours, I loved all kinds of pencils, crayons, markers, paints... and, for my own pleasure, I was a keen creator. Maybe it just seemed like a fad, a feeble attempt, scraps of paper popping up, pictures on the wall, momentary, fleeting activities.
I first became more aware of colours and the design process when I enrolled in an interior design course after my university years. With the support of complex, serious course materials, excellent tutors and mentors, everything I had ever thought about materials, functionality and ergonomics was formed, shaped and enriched. All this at a time when computer-aided design softwares were in their infancy or not available at all. So, everything, always, in every direction, was drawn by hand.
The paint was rarely found, although watercolour always amazed me. Later, when I gave the brushes into my child's hands, I was more adventurous with acrylics and we also tried oils.
And then silk came along...
