This is the artist’s story Evgenia Chernysh-Kuropatkina. When we corresponded, first of all she wrote that she hoped that I was doing well.
Ukrainian artists and people in general have a lot of empathy and nerves. Only when we are on our native land do we feel that we are together. We live and breathe together, no matter where we are. We freeze together when there is an explosion somewhere in the country. If there is electricity and the Internet at such a time, everyone starts writing to each other and asking if everything is okay. From one border of the country to the other, messages, questions, and speculations about where the explosion occurred and whether help is needed pour in. I remember when a missile hit a multi-story apartment building in my city, I received messages from near and far. From friends and strangers. Citizens of the city, where almost two million people lived before the war, went to clear the rubble, rescue people, brought shovels, water, blankets. They brought everything that could be needed. When they realized that ordinary residents would not be allowed to clear the rubble, they reoriented themselves.
Do you know what they did? Residents began to help professional rescuers. They brought hot food, cookies, tea and coffee. They brought large containers and equipment for lighting and cooking. The owners of cafes and restaurants could not keep up with the usual residents. In the early days, ordinary people brought things, food, everything they could think of, from their homes and brought them to the rubble to help.
At this time, the best in each person rises from within and vice versa. We are all different, and sometimes we want to hide from the horrors of the present.
So I’ll continue my story about the artist and author of the paintings you see in the photo.
Yevheniia lives in the town of potters. But it wasn’t always like this. Her story began too long ago and could have been forgotten and accepted by others if Russia had not invaded Ukraine on a full scale. The artist’s native land is Crimea. She was forced to move away from her home too far, as it seemed at the time. When I asked her about her personal journey over the years, she did not want to talk about her personal journey and how she ended up in the town of potters. But she gladly gave me a photo and let me tell you about it. Perhaps later she will decide to tell her story.
When there is no electricity, she has to work in the dark during long winter evenings and nights with air raids. Despite all the obstacles in her work, she believes that paintings give her so much strength and satisfaction in the process that she wants to continue, even if she is tired.
In the photo below, you can see how a person who has suffered the loss of everything has not become cruel. I admire what she can do on canvas.
Peaceful sky to all of us!
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