I was maybe 9 years old. At that time, once per week we had at school our art class, and the teacher was different.
She was different.
She was carrying all the time this bold personality, she was so into the situations, she looked very strong, crazy and passionate.
I remember particularly our first class painting with oils. My canvas was medium size and it was going exactly like this:
a dark room with a big window, dark red velvet curtains. Outside was light, blue sky, warm. Inside was dark, cold and around all the existing browns and greys. And there was a girl, on her back, on her knees, looking through the window.
So, I was painting and painting.. until I decided to start with the beautiful blue sky in the part of the window, and it was THEN when it happened:
Blue? Where’s the blue? Moving my fingers inside the box, looking through the metal tubes. I truly remember the feeling, it was a terrible frustration: I didn’t have any blue.
The -strong, crazy and passionate- teacher saw me, into my eyes and started walking to me.
She came and asked - What happens?
I say -with a sad voice- I don’t have a blue.
She asks, - Why do you need blue?
I say, pointing: - For the sky.
And she said, there, one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard:
-So what? That’s your sky.
The colour doesn’t really matter, just make it yours.