My Artistic Adventure
When I was a child in Ireland, I went to bed late, and I could not sleep past six.
One morning, I found a Spanish television show with a French man who was
painting a beautiful countryside with oil paints.
Right then, I began watching this show. With his quiet voice he explained his natural
way of painting, and he quickly made trees and rivers, simply by moving his hand across the paper. He
made it look simple and easy, so I thought I could do it by myself.
Every Sunday morning, I would try to paint what he was painting on the screen, but I needed oil
paints to make my paintings as beautiful as his. I could not buy oil paints; I was only seven, and my
parents would not buy them for me. Then I decided to use my mother's cosmetics and amer
my painting. I was ready to paint my first picture.
After my mum saw what I did with her things, I was told I could not paint again Th.
told I could not paint again. This put an end to
picture. After a while, I stopped watching the French
my idea of using food the next time to make a picture. After a while, I stopped
simply watch him when I was unable to paint my own pictures.
painter. It was difficult for me to simply watch him when I was un​