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It all took place when I was drawing my last picture five years ago. The title was “The birth of the mountain”, three characters were supposed to seat under the rock as a group.
I usually see complete painting in front of me before I even start, similar to the screen in the movie theatre, and I saw those characters together with the rest, maybe fifteen other characters around the picture. And then suddenly they disappeared . Each time I tried to see them I could only see a cloud, like somebody erased them for me.
That was a very strong sign, if you know what I mean, artists must be sensitive to signs. I stopped painting all together. I felt that important parts of myself went missing and I had to start a journey to find them without any idea where to look. I spent hours in concentration , checking every corner of my memory, and begging every source I ever received i mages from, to return my characters. I thought that was the end of my evolvement as an artist and I felt devastated.
I spent days in a deep sadness until one day I suddenly saw my three characters. They were unrecognizable in their disguises and that felt like a joke – somebody was laughing at my misfortune. They seemed like Disney cartoons characters and I never, never used this kind of images, never even saw them before on my screen!
One of them was a stork , similar to the birds that appear on birthday cards caring newborn babies to their parents. Second was a big doll that been used by probably three or four generations of children, filled with cotton, dressed in the white apron covered with greasy spots. And the third one was a huge, human size, burned out candle that looked like an abstract sculpture made of melted wax.
Of course I could not use such images and that meant to me that my fate as an artist was sealed. I had to surrender to the idea that I will never paint again. You can imagine how I felt after fifteen years of devoting and building my life around painting. I went into deep despair and at some point even told my doctor that I don't want to live like this and that was the truth . In my eyes life lost it's fascination. Even interest in my paintings by my friend and strangers could not cheer me up.
Only about year ago, after I finally accepted my disadvantage , I start receiving unusual stories . They somehow floated into my head - no more images on the screen, no more screen itself - only words . That is how three lost images turned into three stories of my life or maybe lives .
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