Life Instructs & Inspires the Artist Within
Our second son, Pasha, possesses unique artistic abilities. Fully four years before we ever adopted him, he showed us the pictures his friend (who became our first son) had drawn… and slipped in a few of his own. They were good. Really good.
We pursued Pasha for four years, praying for him every day and never forgetting his sweet face. When, at last, they finally released him to come home with us, he had been abused and neglected enough so that the Russian powers that were announced he would destroy our lives. He was mentally, emotionally and physically shot.
Most of the diagnoses were not true at all. To this day, about eight years later, we’re still trying to figure out some of it. But the talent remains.
Usually, he draws or paints landscapes, lovely, evocative scenes from around the world. If we suggest that he branch out and learn another genre, style, or medium, he says he can’t. I think that’s the fetal alcohol talking. Is it that he can’t, or won’t?
Nobody knows. But we’ve been trying to encourage him that he can learn, if only he would do his art classes. And he did. And here’s his first attempt at a cat in acrylics.
We were so proud. Bravo, Pasha, good job!