A Sky of Hope by Julia Baran

"Anatolii, why do you love

the colour blue so much? It's everywhere in your paintings!" – The journalist asked gently, but her recorder was eagerly catching every word. I smiled. If only she knew the real story...

It happened thirty years ago. Kyiv was soaked by heavy rain. Water was everywhere, the walls of the buildings had turned dark, and puddles reflected blurry streetlights. I was hurrying to an important entrance exam at the Academy of Arts. It was my chance to change my life. I left early, but fate had other plans. Suddenly – a loud splash. Cold, dirty street water soaked my pants. The bus driver didn’t even look back. I stood in the middle of the pavement, thinking if there was anything worse than arriving at an exam dirty. Shame and anger were burning me. I ran home and quickly changed. Time was slipping away. I nervously got on the first bus I saw. Every minute of delay felt like the end of my dream. My heart was beating very fast. When I, out of breath, reached the classroom, I realized something awful had happened – my paints were left on that first bus. Without them, I was nothing. An artist without colours is a blank page. I looked around, searching for anything I could use to paint. On the table, there was only one thing that could save me – an old bottle of ink. And, surprisingly, it was a deep blue colour. I took it, like it was my last chance. I mixed the ink with water, dipped my fingers into this homemade paint. And I started to paint. Just with my hands. My strokes, unsure at first, turned into deep, strong waves. I painted the sky I saw in my dreams – not grey, but endless, clean, full of hope. Every touch was both despair and freedom. When I looked up, I saw the usually strict jury watching in silence – they were amazed. No one said a word, only silence. That blue colour, put on paper with my fingers, opened a new world for me. It had a depth, a purity I hadn’t noticed in any other paint before. It was more than just ink – it was the very essence of the sky, the sea, the dawn. When I finished, the jury came closer. They looked at my drawing as if they were seeing something incredible. I waited for their verdict, but instead I heard: "Genius. A true genius." I was accepted. From that day, I started using blue in all my paintings. At first, it was just a wish to recreate that special shade, that magic that saved my exam. But later, blue became something more to me. It appeared on my canvases in many tones: from the light blue of the morning sky to the dark blue of the sea at night. It became my signature, my way to show hope, peace, and the endless world. Every time I touched the blue paint with my brush, I remembered that rainy morning.