My name is Barbara Zaia Swiezynska, I was born in Poland but naturalized Italian, I live in Turin and my surname is almost devoid of vowels, however I am Kreativabaska.
Creative because it's in my nature, Baska because my grandmother called me that when I combined a prank. Usually it was a creative prank, like making the Bears' Last Supper on the living room wall. I have never made a secret of my nature. I have always painted, drawn and written, today I am 45 years old I have left behind a job in the school, in order to be able to fulfill my expectations: to live on what I produce. Therefore?
Paintings, prints, cards, illustrations and consultancy with which I find the details with color and craftsmanship that enrich an event or a location with personality.
It's like having a themed birthday party: it's successful because it involves all the participants in trying their hand at the pink unicorn or a costplayer knight, not just the birthday boy, who will already be the most beautiful of all, and the most loved of the day.
Stimulating our imagination, transporting people to fantastic places of their own through figurative art, is to give an emotion.
We stop on the street in front of a dystopian mural because for a few moments it takes us away from that sidewalk, from the parking pole, from our delay in everyday chores. Activate a little voice that tells us: what if it were?
That's a detachment, a break, a replacement of the monotonous and obsessive contents we surround ourselves with in the daily loop, and it's free, it's there for all to see. In the same way, a colour, a painting in our home/nest, brings back the feeling of well-being that accompanied its purchase, because it was full of moral significance like a Bansky, of serene beauty like a Renoir or full of irreverent and gaudy colors like an advertising poster from the 60s. In the aesthetics of our homes, places of work, leisure or study, the images and colors that surround us influence our well-being and allow us to contemplate beauty, in its deepest meaning, in its radiant beauty.
We don't ask ourselves why looking at a tree makes us feel so good, or what its deepest meaning is; sometimes it's not even the best managed by mother nature, but it makes us feel good, it captures us and infects us with its solidity and its color: it's beautiful, we like it, it takes us to the magical wood of our childhood, it doesn't need to be explained. This is why I don't think it's always necessary to explain a painting, an image, but I think it's important to get infected by the sensation it gives off.