MIRIAM BENHAMU

So after all this rant you are probably wondering: what about the art part? 

And that is exactly what I have been asking myself every day: “What about the art?”

Since before I can remember I have been developing a passion for brushes, colors, textures, words - I could spend hours and hours painting a simple white wall, mixing colors with my hands or simply looking and analyzing pictures hanging on the walls.

I’ve never been one that shows her paintings and writings. I also haven’t spent hours talking about art or strolling through museums. I’ve never really had the people who to share this with. It’s always been my little secret passion.

 

Occasionally, I’ve allowed my mind to dream about being an artist but I would quickly get away from that thought. How could I be an artist if my day to day doesn’t look like that of an artist? My great work of art? A cardboard box that I painted and gifted to my mother on Mother’s Day. No, I wasn’t one that would check the “artist” checkbox.

 

But then I moved to Israel. I began to move through the unknown and felt the need to pull out my camera and immortalize those moments. I also bought an easel, a few canvases, brushes and an oil box. And I created my first “work of art”. I finally allowed myself to dive into my passion and understood that paint, photography and words are my best friends, and also my means to escape and express myself. So, why not make out of the best part of my life, my entire life? 

 

Dedicating my life to art is no longer a dream: it is my reality. 

Being an artist is no longer my dream: it is my goal.