I grow up as a Christian in a small village in Ukraine with my grandparents, rarely ever seeing my parents, only seeing them once or twice a year, and every time it was truly one of the best days of my life.

My mom moved to England a long time ago, ever since she was young. All alone with no one around to support, after some period of time, my brother “Lukas” was born, and shortly a year after I was born in one the most crowded places in London.

Living life for my mom was always a struggle, stressful and painful, having two kids in such a young age was a struggle, dad on the other hand, was one of the biggest as holes out there, there was nothing but problems from that guy, as things got rough, my mom decided to move me and my brother to our grandparents, for us to have a good and a better life.

Living in a small village in Ukraine, was a blast, so much memory that I hope they always stay. Me and my brother always played around with all the random stuff we could find, not knowing that purchasing food was a struggle for as, having McDonald was a restaurant for us, we only had McDonalds onece or even less a year, and every time it was a grateful time.

As I grow up, I got increasingly curious about everything.  My grandad is an artist based on paint, he mastered his style and work, his work was amazing, at that time I had no idea about art, and so I had no interest in it whatsoever, it was only not long ago when I started loving art.

When I was around 10, those where the time where I sort of, become more into art, well I tried. My grandad always kept trying to teach me painting, and all of the sort of information that he knew, as a child all I cared was run around and play, so I didn’t care as much, but I gave it a try anyways. Over and over again I kept failing I hated how my art looked, but there were time were I did enjoy the art that I made, since that time, I haven’t looked to deep into art, but every time I saw my grandad paint, it once again made me curious, it made me question, what if I can make something like that?  It’s safe to say that he was my biggest inspiration those days and still is.

Meanwhile my mom those times found a guy, that now I call my dad, it was a blessing to find a dad like this, especially after the last one, (I still never remembered his face or how he looked like to this day). When I was 12-13 years old, me and my brother moved to England, 12 years later. This time I also had a sister named Lizzy. Times living in England was a struggle, especially with me picking up my Ukrainian accent, which is slowly fading away. At this day and age, I become more interested in art, I took art classes, and sometimes even trying to paint on my own, in my room, I felt really close to painting, I also got my very first commission!  (from my uncle) he wanted me to pain Vincent van Gogh “café terrace at night” it took me a solid few days to finish that paint only because I really wanted to capture all the bits  that the paint had, I was really happy with how it turned out at the end, I felt proud to paint that. That commission is what pushed me closer to art, and I started to enjoy drawing and painting. I was bad at it, but I still enjoyed.

Sweet 16! At this point I’m all grow up, and it was the times when I finished GCSE, after passing, I went to collage to study Fine Art, I quickly realised that that was a mistake, because I wanted to become and study product design, but even though that was the case, it was for the best, because right when I started we had a project, and we had to create our own idea and a drawing. With all the disappointment and annoyance that I ended up studying the wrong course, I told myself “there’s nothing I can do, might as well do what I have to do” and so I ended up doing it, only to find out now that the drawing of when I was 16 is the drawing that changed the perspective of how I saw art. We had to create an artwork in a style that we never used, so I choose pen/ink, and that choice changed my life. “Innocent Death” is what I called that drawing, I tried showing how even innocent can sometime be not as innocent, I loved that drawing, and all my family and teachers were shocked on how I could have created such drawing, only being 16, now that I’m 18, I never forgot that day. The day that made me who I am now. The day that changed the way I think about art.

- Mark Nemish

Ink Artist