In November 2013, I travelled abroad to paint for the first time. It was Madeira — an island in the Atlantic Ocean, often called the island of eternal spring.
This trip turned out to be more significant than it might seem at first glance.
That same year, I left my office job and decided to dedicate myself entirely to painting. Along with that decision came a sense of freedom. For the first time, I could build my life around painting, rather than searching for a place for it between other things. And Madeira became the first point on the map of this new life.
That same year, I left my office job and decided to dedicate myself entirely to painting. Along with that decision came a sense of freedom. For the first time, I could build my life around painting, rather than searching for a place for it between other things. And Madeira became the first point on the map of this new life.
I travelled to the island with a fellow artist friend, and we stayed for a month. It was the first time I worked not at home or in a studio, but in a completely different country.
The first thing I remember about Madeira is the air after the rain — warm, humid, and surprisingly soft. The island itself amazed me with its diversity. Within a relatively small area, the weather and light kept changing, and with them, the mood of the landscape. Bright sunshine would give way to clouds and rain, then a breathtaking wind, followed by fog, and minutes later the sun would be blazing again. I was drawn to nature, to the light, and to the sheer sense of scale. The ocean was almost always present — as a backdrop, a landmark, a constant horizon line.
We stayed with a local family, renting a room, and spent a lot of time talking with our hosts. Thanks to them, we were able to see the island not just as travellers, but as temporary residents. They showed us their favourite spots, told us about local life, and that made our experience of Madeira feel more vivid and real.
During the trip, I created several paintings. Today I rarely look back at them, and I don't consider them important milestones in my artistic development — because the real significance lay elsewhere.
For the first time, I saw that the life of an artist could exist not only in dreams and plans. That it was possible to travel to another country, work every day, observe the world around you, and build your life around art.
The hardest part was the desire to paint and explore the island at the same time. I wanted to do everything — finish a piece, walk one more route, discover a new shore, or watch the sunset over the ocean. Every day, I had to choose.
Since then, I have returned to Madeira several times. But it is the first journey that remains special to me. It didn't change my artistic language or lead to any major works. Its meaning was different. It was the beginning — the moment when the decision to become an artist ceased to be an idea and turned into real life.