When I was a child, I never understood why my brothers got so excited whenever my dad bought a new tool. They were really interested in learning how to use it. They took turns in working with certain tools or machines within my dad’s workshop. They even made contests on who was working better or faster.
It all seemed so ridiculous to me. They acted as if they were planning to work in a garage or a workshop all their life. I tried to share their enthusiasm, but it turned out I was a mess. I couldn't do all the things they were doing. I couldn't keep up to them. Not necessarily because I was younger or weaker. I simply didn't like it. I didn’t like to have my hands dirty and smell like paint, varnish or tint or any other substance dad kept in his workshop.
I preferred to stay inside, and read than trying to please them or my dad. Sometimes he forgot that I was a girl. When he was addressing us, he was using the term: ”boys” instead of “kids”. I didn't mind.
Mom was the only person who truly understood me, and who showed me it was normal to be different. She never mocked me, or pushed me into doing something that I was not comfortable doing it. She always encouraged me to follow my heart and my passions, saying that one day I would find my real talent.
Thanks to her, I learnt how to be true to myself, and not to waste time on pleasing other people.
Twenty years later, I discovered she was right. I was talented as well. I was able to draw and paint.
During my first pregnancy, I took an art course at the local community center. The teacher was surprised to hear that I had never painted before. My first art assignment was to paint a place from my childhood. Guess what I chose as my subject? My dad’s workshop! I gave this painting to my dad, as gift for his sixty -second birthday. Because he loved it so much, he hung it above his fireplace, in the living room.
One of my brothers embraced art as well. He is a metal artist, working with a cnc cutting table. He sells most of his artwork online. Who would have ever thought that he would give up his mechanic job and become an artist? Not me! Not dad! Not even himself!