From time to time, someone commissions a portrait not simply as an artwork, but as a way to preserve a presence — a face, a character, a moment in life meant to last beyond the present. Portraits hold a unique place in art because they are created with the future in mind, becoming part of a family’s visual history.
When I work on a portrait, my focus goes beyond likeness. I look for what makes a person recognisable to those who love them — a certain expression, a posture, a quiet strength or warmth that speaks of who they are. These details are often subtle, but they are what transform a portrait into something deeply personal.
Commissioned portraits are often created to mark important moments: a milestone, a legacy, or a tribute. Over time, they become witnesses to family stories, passed from one generation to the next, carrying memory, identity, and connection.
For me, creating a portrait is a shared process built on trust and attentiveness. It is about honouring the individual and creating a work that will continue to speak long after the sitting has ended — a lasting memory, held in paint.
Right to Be Free was an art exhibition by True Blue & a Little Bit of Yellow, created to mark Ukraine’s Independence Day and presented as part of the Freedom. Courage. Culture. performance at Sydney Town Hall in August 2024. The exhibition focused on fundamental human rights and freedoms — values currently under severe threat in Ukraine due to the unlawful Russian invasion. The visual artworks deliberately reflected the joyful, life-affirming aspects of freedom, while accompanying posters addressed the specific rights being violated. This contrast invited viewers to reflect on what freedom means, and what is at stake when it is taken away. Presented in the heart of Sydney, the exhibition formed part of a broader cultural program celebrating Ukrainian identity, resilience, and independence.
In the fifth grade, I first tried watercolour painting—and it instantly became a source of immense joy. The way the pigments danced and blended on paper felt like magic. I discovered that watercolours have a mind of their own: their fluidity and unpredictability invite collaboration rather than control. Over the years, this dialogue between brush, water, and pigment has stayed with me. Every time I pick up a watercolour brush, I’m reminded of that first spark of discovery in year 5—the joy of watching colours flow freely, forming something beautiful and unexpected. My journey with art didn’t stop there. I’ve dedicated my entire life to studying and working with various materials—acrylics, oils, texture pastes, and more—each offering its own challenges and rewards. Yet watercolour remains my first love, the medium that taught me to trust the process and embrace the beauty of imperfection. Even today, that simple act of dipping the brush in water brings not only pigments to paper but also a flood of memories, a quiet sense of gratitude, and a profound satisfaction that has endured since those early school days.
