“Why did you put a poor fish in a glass?” was the first question my dad asked me when he saw a glass I painted. It was the biggest compliment a girl could want.
I started painting as soon as I could hold a paint brush in my hand. I never stopped until my hands were too busy holding my baby, and had to take a step back. But it was not long until we started to paint together (how I loved those happy and messy days!).
As he grew, my son became fascinated with fish. One day, he asked me to buy him a fish. We couldn’t afford a fish tank so I got an idea. I painted one, as realistic as I could, on a sippy cup. It became his favourite toy, so of course, it didn’t have a long life.
But that’s how I started painting realistic fish on glass and I didn’t stop there. I took everything from my kitchen cabinets and tried to give them a new life through my paintbrush. Now I paint on everything I get my hands on. It’s become therapeutic for me and, as long as my hands don’t give in, I’ll never stop.
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