Being creative is a hard work. We’re used to thinking that inspiration is just something that happens to talented and lucky people, but that’s completely wrong. As Picasso once said, ‘Inspiration exists but it has to find us working’.
I consider myself quite a creative person. Writing and taking photos are part of my daily routine. Even if I’m not doing something new, because there days when I’m not in a mood or too busy or I just don’t have an idea, I still dedicate some hours to my creations by editing what I’ve written earlier or photoshoping my old pictures.
I really think that it’s a good practice because that way I never fall out of the creating process. I mean, it’s really important to have a habit of doing something everyday, because when you stop and give yourself a break, it’s hard to go back to what you were doing.
Between writing poems and taking pictures, I suppose the first one is harder. Sometimes I just don’t know what to write about, even if I’m in a mood.
For instance, right now I’m taking part in a poetry competition in college. We are supposed to write a sonnet based on any painting we like. The only condition: the painter have to be modern and not American.
I think it’s a nice idea because it kind of puts all the concurrents in an equal position, however, I have no idea, based on what principles they are going to judge us.
Anyway, I’ve chosen one of the beautiful oil paintings by Leonid Afremov. He is a contemporary artist who belongs to an impressionist art movement. He was born in Belarus, but now he’s living in Mexico, as far as I know.
What is so special about his works?
- All of them are extremely joyful and colorful and transmit the impressions of the artist after visiting foreign countries of seeing beautiful things around like flowers and other objects.
- During the years, Afremov has developed a special technique combining the brush and a palette knife, which makes every painting very unique.
- He avoids depressive motives and unpleasant things.
For the first time I saw this painting in some magazine at my friend’s house. Link Just look at this fabulous sunset, the last slanting beams of light playing on the roof of the majestic dome. I want to save the mysterious atmosphere of a dream in my poem.