I’m very good at burring my talents. I can do anything to conceal them because it is a lot easier and of course a lot less frightening. Running away from things, scared of failure.

When I was a little girl I was rather good at dancing. My friend, my very best friend after one of the repetitions laughed in front of other girlfriends at how clumsy I was. Not at dancing, at other things like dropping my books out of a sudden, or not noticing a turn. At that time I was a very dreamy girl indeed. And I could not bear it. Stormed out of the room so that nobody could see me crying. Never returned to proper dancing classes after that. Though even now I’m very fond of dancing, I can move with great lightness, I feel the rhythm well, and the most important of all I sincerely enjoy what I am doing.

Arts. Before I started my school education I was accepted to two schools. One of them focused on arts, the other one on foreign languages. I chose the latter because I was a very curious girl. I wanted to see the world, I wanted to travel, to speak freely with the other people who do not know my native language. And so it was. Too bad our education system is not like an American one. We cannot choose different subjects that we want. We have to bear the subjects somebody thinks are good for us and we have to make sacrifices. I sacrificed my art studies in order to learn foreign languages. It was very hard as nobody in my family could help me with that subject. We didn’t have electronic dictionaries back then, so I had to look up all the foreign words, their meaning, their pronunciation in big dictionary books.

Nine years of very hard work later I went to study for a year in the USA. Finally my knowledge of foreign languages served me well and I could take any subjects I wanted on my itinerary. Five art classes out of fifteen subjects total. Nobody else could allow himself or herself that kind of liberty. It was very hard in the beginning. I didn’t know what to do surrounded by all those genius and very artistic kids who drew all their life. I didn’t know how to use my tools well, and nobody really taught us in a way that we are taught here. Teachers just explained the topic and what we should focus on in our work and that was it. At the end of the year I had a portfolio that was good enough to be accepted to any art university in that country. I really wanted to get into Fashion Institute of New York. I dreamt of becoming a fashion designer but it was not the case. At that time it was a question of money and visa. I lacked both so I had to come back home.

I wanted to pursue the same carrier in my native country. There I was not even allowed to take exams as I didn’t have a conventional art school diploma that was absolutely necessary to enter. I was very upset, and desperate, and angry at this country, and the people, and the stupid rules. Besides I was told that it is not a very good profession for a girl. You had to have connections and money in order to succeed pretty much like in every other field but it was even more true for design.

What would a little, confused, shy and unsure of herself girl do if her own parents would not have faith in her? So I hid all my albums, painting, drawings, watercolours, coloured pencils and buried my talent very far away. I couldn’t make myself draw a thing since then. I cannot enjoy it anymore, almost have forgotten how to do it. Nothing can hurt more than broken dreams.

And here comes writing. My another and the last passion. I’m so afraid to lose it! And there are times when I can’t make myself to write a word. I would be sitting and staring at a new blank page and be so afraid to type a key, to let the thoughts develop, pour onto that paper, and slip from my mouth. Even when I have a thousand things to say. I’m so thankful to have a blog. Not a single blog actually but my first one. It was really a revelation for me — to write something that other people find enjoyable, filled with emotions and helpful, something that was true and had a lot of my soul, time and efforts dedicated to. There are times when I want to quit everything, delete all the blogs and my Twitter account, even clear the search engines’ cashes if that was possible, and hide from everybody, far-far away from those cruel and insensitive people. Every next time it’s harder not to do so but I know I cannot allow it to myself. I can not and should dare not to bury yet another talent that I value so much, probably my last one. I really need it to develop. I am afraid that without it I will be completely broken.

And I want to do many things with this talent. For instance, I dearly wish to write a book. Actually I’ve been writing it for quite a while but it will take a lot more time to finish. Years, probably. Not for somebody else, or for universal approval and recognition. I want to do it for myself to prove that I can. And I want to film a movie, to participate in making a movie, to bring a lot of thought and soul into it, and to make costumes for some old-fashioned empire film. In the end everything comes to the point where it began. I really want to see England. I hope one day I will.