Today I want to dedicate this journal entry to my art teacher. The person, who from my early age (I was about 6 when I first entered her classroom) supported me and helped to discover new ways to express yourself.
We won many art contests, for the first time in my life I got to know that people like my art. She helped me with my career (she suggested me to go to the University).
Her studio was my second home, and she was my second Mom. In her class I met many new friends.
She never punished her students, even when were were unbearable, running all around with paint and screaming. She had always been happy to know all our news, to give an advice.
Today is her Birthday. But she is already dead. She was not yet fifty. No one told me that she had cancer.
We never speack about her health, however, I had worries, why she is so often staed at home. She died in January. No one told me when, no one told me where were funeral and so on. I sent her cards and messages, and called her, and had no reply. Suddenly I find out the truth only four months later.
Happy Birthday, my teacher. I hope in heaven they have enough paint.