MaLen is me.
Welcome!
Today it will be a bit biographical, a little bit about me and a little bit about Him. And although I do not like to write about myself in this way, but I was told to do it. This will be the first and only one time.
MaLen is me. MaLen is my name in the artistic world. It was created from the combination of the first letters of my worldly name and surname.
I have always had the scientific mind and soul of the artist. I used to write a little, poems and stories, but almost everything landed in a drawer. That was not it.
Then there was photography. It was better, I felt it. I found that I had a sense of composition and light but, obsessively searching for the perfect frame led me to frustration. In turn, simulating the composition and processing photos in photoshop did not give me fun and job satisfaction. Again, this was not it. However, the camera has become one of the important tools of my studio.
one photo from old times
After the photography, oil painting appeared quite unexpectedly. It seemed so uncomplicated. A brush, paint, canvas, just enough to materialize your thoughts. Images flew one after the other. I liked them. By the time. The more I liked the painting, the more I sank myself into it. And at the same time the more my paintings ceased to please me. I destroyed all of my works that fell into my hands. I needed a change.
A pencil came with help. I made friends with him very quickly. It turned out that large or small drawings are so simple to be formed. From imagination or direct drawing, it does not matter. Graphite and charcoil have also become my good friends.
The time has come easy for pastels and watercolors. Combined techniques and combinations. I started to create colorful illustrations for children's books, take part in various illustrator competitions. Sometimes I was appreciated, sometimes not. However, I was always happy with the submitted job because I did one's best.
One day while cleaning the wardrobe, I found some of my old oil paintings that was saved by my husband from destruction. When I looked at them I barely remembered them. They were so technically bad, so imperfect and naive but full of messages and ideas that begged to be refreshed. It was the first time that He appeared. He ordered me to paint so I started painting again. This time, painting did not seem as uncomplicated as it used to be. Everything went with difficulty and slowly. Perhaps because He demanded so much. Everything had to be perfect and in line with his expectations. I made hundreds of trials, experiments, greyhounds and tutorials watched. Hours spent searching for descriptions of painting techniques and tricks. I studied color, chiaroscuro, learned techniques of old masters. I became a regular customer of art suplies stores. Sometimes He liked my art pieces, but most of the work was repainted or destroyed, because He did not want to look at it. It turned out that my imagination copes well with shapes but worse with chiaroscuro. Then a sculpture appeared. I used self-made models in installations. However, everything went very slowly and the lack of success often led me to give up. Then He would not let me forget Himself. He kept demanding - Paint it! Paint it! Paint it! I was negotiating with Him a reduction, He sometimes agreed and then I continued to paint. Crises and reflexions appeared alternately and repeatedly. Interestingly, I never had a problem with what to paint. He gave me inspiration in one way, while blocking me with the expected and difficult final effect. I negotiated with him, thanks to which several of my works could see the light of the day. I can say that to this day I have to negotiate with him every painted picture. And although it is not easy, painting makes me happy, I associate the future with it and I believe that it will give me real satisfaction.
I will not write anymore today. He decided it was enough. There are several pictures that are waiting for come along on the easel. How many of them will see the light of day? How many of them will die in the womb of creation? Only HE knows it.
awaiting birth
I'm going back to the easel!
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