As a young child, she had been sickly. She had a rare disease that most physicians had never seen, and could not treat. The prognosis was not good, and her parents were told she would likely not see her 20s. Her muscles withered as she grew older and eventually, she was confined to her bed. This is where she learned to paint. Her father would spend the days he wasn’t working carrying her into the wilds around their village and she would spend her time in bed relishing in these moments and painting what she brought to mind. Years passed like this, most waking hours spent honing her craft. In life, she suffered, but her mind was a sanctuary.
