„That’s ugly as a mud fence,“ Timo blurted as he saw the painting his little brother had painted, hanging on the refrigerator.
„Timo, don’t be so mean. Your brother is very creative. We want to support him“, his mother said in a strict tone. The picture showed a still-life, and it could not be more disturbing. Nevertheless, it would hang on the fridge for years from now on. Timo was aware of that.
„It is perfect, yes Tatjana, it is so beautiful. Thank you“, Elisa said to her friend.
She was tightly tied up in the evening dress specially sewn for her.
The dress was adorable. In case you were living in the penultimate century. Elisa was still looking for a way to make her friend understand that minimal changes would make it an even more beautiful piece. She truly admired her talent. The gesture of her friend touched her deeply.
„Some of your stories are difficult to understand,“ my mother said.
The fact that she admires what I do and keeps up with my work,
is enough praise for me. I am aware that not every piece can reap the applause of the same people. Not everything we create is created for everyone. That’s the case even for the ones we love.
The recognition of art as being art is pure love.
Love from those who love you from the heart.
Love from those who do not even know you.
Is the objective opinion about works of art the only reliable one?
Surely it is the one who is most authentic, for sure.
Certainly, it is the love of our loved ones that brings us on the way as an artist.
On the route to enchant people who know nothing about our art, our magic.
Those who applaud us for what we created. Just for that.