Hello there! I'm Tania, 25 years old, a native Parisian girl and a painter who finds her sense of existence in colors.
To be honest, I'm a bit like a paint tube that hasn't been tightly sealed—my enthusiasm tends to leak out, you know? I can talk all day to a blank canvas in the studio, but when I turn around and see a stranger, I suddenly stutter; it's both funny and frustrating.
I started painting in elementary school because it was always too quiet at home. The sound of the brush gliding over the canvas echoed more than my parents' conversations. Later, I discovered that wine is also fascinating; it changes like emotions do—sharp when first opened, softening over time, much like myself.
I graduated from the Paris School of Fine Arts, but now I prefer to set up a stall in Montmartre and do quick sketches for tourists. The faces of those strangers are far more real than any orders in a gallery—just last week, an old gentleman asked me to sketch his wife, saying, "Her eyes looked like Monet's water lilies when she was young." At that moment, I suddenly felt that what I was painting wasn't a portrait, but the time that they concealed in their wrinkles.
I can recite the vintage characteristics of every classified wine estate in Bordeaux! During my last blind tasting, I even guessed that the grapes were grown on a slope at 280 meters above sea level, impressive, right? But my real skill is painting with wine; the way the stains blur resembles tears more than any paint can.
Page 17 of my sketchbook has remained blank, reserved for the person who can make me forget my loneliness. What about you? Do you have something hidden in your heart that you've always wanted to be seen? How about... I draw a quick sketch of you? Just your eyes, okay?