"The Art of Noticing — A Path of Inner Transformation"
ARTICLE
The whisper of leaves in the wind.
Dust particles, swirling, performing an ancient dance in the sunlight.
The delicate ringing of raindrops.
The shimmer of morning dew upon the petals of the most mysterious flowers.
You might say — merely ordinary natural phenomena.
Perhaps.
And yet, through these simple, almost imperceptible things, the world breathes.
Dust particles, swirling, performing an ancient dance in the sunlight.
The delicate ringing of raindrops.
The shimmer of morning dew upon the petals of the most mysterious flowers.
You might say — merely ordinary natural phenomena.
Perhaps.
And yet, through these simple, almost imperceptible things, the world breathes.
The project “The HIDDEN BEAUTY” is precisely about this.
Its foundation lies in exploring the fundamental principles of drawing and painting — color, tone, proportion, line and shape, composition, light and shadow, contrasts.
Upon this structure, techniques are layered — first the simplest, then more individual, resonating with each person.
The goal is not the dry mastery of material, but a response to what feels in tune.
Its foundation lies in exploring the fundamental principles of drawing and painting — color, tone, proportion, line and shape, composition, light and shadow, contrasts.
Upon this structure, techniques are layered — first the simplest, then more individual, resonating with each person.
The goal is not the dry mastery of material, but a response to what feels in tune.
The ordinary eye — the one untrained by any form of art — often remains blind to this fleeting magic hidden in all living things.
I call it “the ghostly beauty.”
“God is in the details,” said Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.
And indeed, he was right.
In this sense, the practice of art becomes, in its own way, a practice of seeing — a cultivation of sensitivity.
When mastery of artistic technique ceases to be the goal, and instead becomes a bridge to the inner self.
When a direct dialogue with one’s truth begins to take shape, and a deep sense of belonging and connection with all that exists arises.
When you no longer exist as a separate particle — a small “I” defending itself from life’s invasions — but instead weave your unique vibration of the soul into the multidimensional fabric of existence, beholding its creations.
It might seem — just drawing.
But no.
It is a whole path, holding within itself as many gifts and revelations as each of us is ready to receive.
In this gentle way, art softly brings us closer to our true selves — opening our eyes to things that may appear simple, yet are filled with depth.
Long before I realized the hidden potential of artistic practice, whenever life grew heavy, almost instinctively I would go for a walk.
I’d close my eyes and listen to the sounds surrounding me.
I would breathe deeply — with every exhale letting go of problems and questions of the restless self, and with every inhale stepping out of my small human “box” made of expectations, fears, and judgments.
Returning to the center — the heart — I would open my eyes.
And what would I find?
Magic.
It could be bright stars scattered across the velvet night sky;
a ray of sunlight falling gently on the upper leaves of a tree;
or perhaps a peculiar pattern of textures layered upon an old wall.
It didn’t matter what I saw — but how I saw it.
Most of the time we remain blind to this subtle, ghostly beauty.
And yet it is always near — in everything that surrounds us.
When we rise above our inner or outer drama, even for a moment — when we forget how small and fragile we are, and step aside from all that noise — something opens.
Something that has always been there:
a quiet sense of unshakable unity.
Each time this happened, my eyes would fill with tears — tears of an overflowing joy that had no external cause.
No one had called to say my problems were solved.
Outwardly, nothing had changed — at least not yet.
But inwardly, the perspective had shifted.
I was no longer a small girl.
I became something larger, more majestic — deeply connected to all that is.
I could feel my heart beating in unison with the wind, the sea, and the song of birds.
You might think that such sensitivity is something rare, not meant for ordinary people.
But it isn’t so.
We can consciously cultivate this ability.
Artists call it “training the hand and the eye.”
When the body becomes a conduit for signals, and the eyes perceive things clearly, without distortion.
It’s as if you’ve been looking through fogged, dirty windows all your life — and suddenly the haze dissolves, and you see things as they truly are.
What’s fascinating is that this idea goes even deeper — it opens a new perspective for understanding and resolving our personal struggles.
When we deepen our perception of the outer world, it often begins to mirror our inner depth.
It allows us to ask ourselves truly honest questions — and to receive sincere answers.
It develops the awareness of presence, a deep sense of self, of one’s desires, of one’s body.
I call this process the journey home.
AUTEUR: KRISTINA MARIINSKAYA
I’m not a supporter of one-sided solutions.
I love to nurture individuality and the voice of each person, without generalization.
For art to become, as we’ve said before, a bridge to the inner world, it is essential to follow what resonates — both with the discipline and with the possible methods of practice.
It’s not about becoming a professional artist, though that is never excluded, but about uncovering one’s hidden creative potential.
This becomes possible when you follow a gentle, mindful methodology that conveys what is essential — without excess noise or layers of unnecessary technical detail.
Through this structure I have guided many creative souls across the world — through art, back to their true selves.
For many, creativity has become a path of return;
for others — an entire world of personal imagery and meaning, taking the shape of a vocation.
We may expect one thing — but in the end, something new, vast, and deeply our own is born.
The key is simply to remain open, and to listen to the quiet impulses within.
When mastery of technique and the fundamental concepts unfolds, something very important occurs — the inner gaze opens.
We begin to direct it toward the world around us, creating what I like to call “visual sketches” — moments of presence through observation.
Once artistic concepts reveal themselves to you, you can no longer see the world as before.
It feels like immersion into a multidimensional layering of details.
What was once hidden — through ignorance or lack of perception — suddenly manifests itself, revealing its full beauty.
What is it, then?
It is the light falling, in its own peculiar way, upon an object you love;
the shadow cast upon the ground, acquiring a mysterious shape and tonality;
the whimsical outline of a favorite tree whose branches weave intricate patterns in the air.
Whatever it may be — in that instant, the whole richness of the surrounding world unfolds before you.
It is as if everything ceases to be flat, gaining depth and new dimensions woven into the fabric of space itself.
The mere act of noticing — of recognizing — is already a form of art.
And an art not only external, but profoundly internal.
A priceless gift — to see the ghostly beauty, to trace its contours, and to be part of its spontaneous flow.
It might seem — just drawing.
Yet it holds within it true healing.
For the act of noticing the everyday magic transforms us from within.
We are no longer who we were.
We are not a coincidence — we are a precious part of the deep process called life.
And from this perspective, our human existence takes on the vastness of the soul —
a soul that sees the reflection of inner beauty in everything outward.
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