I am sitting in my room in a small house in Osterbro which I am sharing with two other girls. I am listening to some random list on Spotify. I am sitting with my coffee and thinking about how to start this story and wether I should write the short or long version of it. One thing I know about myself is I want things to make sense. To understand it. To the fullest. I am not a writer or even used to write in english, but I shall do my best. That is another thing my mom has taught me - “just do your best, I expect nothing else from you.”
But let me start from the beginning. I guess if you are here reading it, you might be a little curious, and I would rather tell it myself than having other people do it.
I was born in january 1989 in Vejle, Denmark. I’ve lived my whole life with my mom in a small apartment. I’m her only child. I’ve been drawing since I can remember. I loved it. It was somehow a place where I could escape from the world. I was depicting objects, drawing after Disney figures, horses etc. I was quite young when my mom send me to a drawing class. I barely remember it. My mom was a great painter herself and taught me how to work with aquarelle. I practiced for a long time and made a bird painting to my teacher in school. I might have been around 10-12 years old at that time, but I remember it so clearly. As I gave it to him, he took his time and studied it. It was his last day as our teacher. After a few minutes he looked at me and said “Christiane you shall never stop drawing”. I didn’t see him much after that, since it was his last day, but every time I saw him until this day he will ask me “Are you still drawing?”. He is old now. When I picked up drawing again some years back I had a story in a danish newspaper about him. To thank him. To let him know I still remember. His words has always stuck with me “you shall never stop drawing”.
But. I did stop.
(Will let you when second part of the story will be featured)