The story is a meaningful one because it marks a turning point in my growth as an artist.
It all began during my second year at university, when Painting was part of our curriculum. Ironically, one of the things that seemed to create the biggest divide between students from different departments was painting itself. I remember asking my professor, "Won't we be working with oil paints during these two semesters?" Her answer was simple:
"No. You're not in the Painting Department. You're in the Book & Illustration Department."
And that was the end of the conversation.
We worked with watercolor, and anyone who wanted could use acrylics. For me, that moment quietly closed a door I hadn't even had the chance to open.
So after my second year ended, in the summer of 2021, I decided to open the only book on oil painting I had at home. I read through the basics, then threw myself into research. I watched dozens of videos, read countless articles, and learned how different mediums behave, how to layer them, and how much of each ingredient is needed to achieve a particular effect.
But that was only the technical side of the journey.
I also had to teach myself color theory from a painter's perspective. I discovered that the traditional color wheel - and all the diagrams showing complementary and contrasting colors - has very little to do with how color actually behaves in oil painting (or in most traditional painting techniques, for that matter).
As a beginner, one simple realization changed everything for me: in landscapes, the warm yellow notes naturally come forward, the reddish tones sit farther back, and the distant planes shift into blues. That was it. Pages and pages of theory distilled into one sentence - something no one had ever explained to me before.
What kept me going was pure curiosity and an overwhelming desire to learn. Within a few days, I had bought my first set of essential colors, a new easel, canvas panels, and I began my first oil painting in August 2021. By then, I had spent one or two months preparing, and for the first time I felt that I understood the fundamentals well enough to finally begin.
I couldn't wait.
I was genuinely excited.
My very first oil painting was a still life featuring a toaster and kitchen utensils—a piece I am still incredibly proud of today. I completed it on August 18, 2021, after six days of painting, working six to eight hours each day. While it was drying, I had already started a portrait of my mother.
Later, after returning from a photography field workshop organized by the Academy, I came back to oil painting and painted one or two landscapes—both of which are still unfinished. Those first months took me in many different directions. Along the way, I realized how much I loved landscape painting and how badly I wanted to understand water, atmosphere, and the challenge of creating convincing depth, especially in scenes filled with greenery.
Even then, I felt that my paintings were still missing something.
What surprised me most was how working with oils slowly changed the way I looked at the world. Every landscape became a palette. I found myself instinctively breaking colors apart in my mind, imagining how I would mix them and lay them onto a canvas.
A more poetic way of describing professional deformation, perhaps.
Then, only a few months ago, I discovered something else that completely transformed the way I paint. Suddenly my process became faster, more intuitive, and much more confident. The hesitation disappeared, and every step began to feel clear.
The truth is that research and practice can teach you an incredible amount. Everything I learned came from my own determination. I spent countless evenings - and often entire days - studying the material, experimenting, and trying to understand its endless possibilities.
In 2025, I took part in a competition at the Academy, and my still life with the toaster was selected to be exhibited for several days at San Stefano Gallery in Sofia. For me, that felt like a full-circle moment. It was a quiet but meaningful form of recognition, and it made me hope that this was only the beginning - that my paintings would continue to find their way into exhibitions and be seen by others.
By then, oil painting had become part of who I am, and I know it will remain a lifelong pursuit.
If I had to summarize what this journey means to me in just one sentence, it would be this:
Oil painting is the hobby within my work as an illustrator.
It is a skill I am incredibly proud to have developed, and even more grateful that I gave myself the chance to discover. It all began with an endless curiosity and a genuine desire to keep learning.
Anyone who has worked with oil paints knows there is always more to uncover. It isn't just a medium - it is an entirely new world to step into.
