Snow in September. Oil painting. Canvas, fiberboard. Painting

Recalling my childhood, when I was 4 or 5 years old, I see myself again in a circle of creative personalities-young poets, writers, artists-my parents' friends. They often gathered at our house, hotly discussing events, sometimes reading works of "samizdat" banned by the totalitarian system, discussing, reading and analyzing their own works together, joking... Their lively, hot eyes betrayed their indifference, their love for life and creativity, and at the same time their inner protest, their rejection of the reality that turned individuals into a submissive, zombie-like herd. My father also read his poetry and made "dynamic" sketches of his friends. I loved such evenings! Young people grew up, started their own families, and such meetings became infrequent. But I still grew up in a creative atmosphere - my father was always painting, and my friends and I often went to the plein air with him, showing our "artistic abilities." At the age of 13, I started studying at an art school, and 2 years later I entered college at the art department. Studying, participating in faculty exhibitions, unforgettable plein airs, a friendly, cheerful group of artists - these are the happiest years of my youth! Then there was a family, the birth of children, part-time higher education, work at a gymnasium, where I taught fine arts, as well as Ukrainian language and literature. I flew on wings to work and back home. But there was little time for my own creativity, so I had no time for exhibitions. But... 2014 took away my home, career, many relatives and friends. Bombs, guns, the crackling of machine guns, the sound of broken windows, burning houses, screams, crying - this is the "liberation" of us from normal life to return us to the submissive herd. I had to leave my native Donetsk region and go to Kharkiv. Pain and emptiness in my soul. My hand did not touch the brush for a long time. A similar tragedy occurred on February 24, 2022, when the whole of Ukraine woke up to explosions. We had to save lives again. We left Kharkiv for western Ukraine. My physical, moral, and creative recovery is now underway. Yes, now I am recovering as an artist. I am inspired by the hope that this horror will soon end... And everything will be fine!