The Soul’s Second Calling:
Aranka Székely’s Art of Emotional Healing
by Viviana Puello.
What happens when a doctor decides to treat not just the body, but the human spirit? What if your daily confrontation with suffering didn’t harden you, but instead opened a second doorway—a canvas of compassion, color, and catharsis?
This is not just the story of a painter. This is the story of a healer who paints. And her name is Aranka Székely.
“Parents of Earth” Acrylic on Canvas by Ari Székely.
From Diagnosis to Dreamworld
Every day, Aranka Székely stands at the intersection of science and sorrow. As a medical doctor, she’s well-acquainted with pain—its precision, its unpredictability, its weight. But when the stethoscope comes off and the brush finds her hand, she steps into another realm entirely—one where tenderness reigns, where beauty breathes, and where the soul, finally, gets to speak.
“In fact, my career as a doctor puts me constantly in contact with human suffering, so painting becomes a way of going beyond what is daily in front of me,” Székely reflects, “and instead letting flow all that is beautiful in life—something far more in tune with my inner inclinations.”
This isn’t escapism. This is alchemy. A transformation of what wounds into what heals.
“Spring Fairy” Acrylic on Canvas by Ari Székely.
The Woman as World
Székely’s absolute protagonist is the woman. She appears not as muse or model, but as a mirror—a living archive of experience. Sometimes she is a mother. Sometimes a lover. Sometimes simply herself, radiant in solitude. And often, Székely confesses, these women are alter egos—fragments of her own inner life that choose, work by work, to reveal themselves.
This emotional layering comes through vividly in “Parents of Earth”. The silhouetted forms of a man and woman aren’t merely figures—they are landscapes. Within their bodies swirl mountains, forests, rivers—living metaphors of unity, creation, and connection. The woman forms a heart with her hands; the man’s silhouette receives it at his mind’s center. The message is clear: love begins within, and radiates outward.
“Sunset Yoga” Watercolor by Ari Székely.
Art as Afterglow
Székely is a self-taught artist, and that fact matters—not because it implies a lack of training, but because it reveals a rare and unfiltered authenticity. Her brush does not obey convention. It responds to emotion.
She has worked in acrylics, pastels, and watercolor, moving fluidly between realism and abstraction. Her colors shimmer with warmth. Her lines move with ease. Her figures aren’t confined—they breathe. They become. In each piece, she captures not just what is seen, but what is felt in those quiet, sacred moments when words fall short.
In “Spring Fairy”, this sensitivity comes alive. A woman dances through lilac blossoms, draped in blue, hair wind-swept, eyes wise. There is softness here—but also strength. She is not only part of nature; she is nature. Feminine, free, and fully embodied.
The Quiet Impact of Joy
Székely’s work resists the modern obsession with irony. It chooses instead to dwell in joy. But hers is not decorative joy—it is hard-earned and profound. It speaks to resilience. It emerges like light after a long winter.
Her artistic philosophy is rooted in renewal. Painting, she says, helps her process what she sees as a doctor. It gives her access to “the most joyful aspects of life”—as if art allows her to re-anchor herself in beauty after witnessing the body’s fragility all day.
This is not indulgence. It’s survival. It’s soul-care.
The Doctor Who Paints the Soul
Her ability to hold both suffering and beauty in the same breath is what sets her apart. Székely does not compartmentalize. She integrates. Her work in medicine doesn’t just inform her art—it deepens it.
Her figures seem to carry not only stories, but sanctuaries. Each canvas is a space where healing doesn’t require a prescription. Only presence. Only color. Only care.
Italian art critic Marta Lock draws a comparison to Chagall—another dreamer whose works transcend realism in order to touch something more essential. Székely, like Chagall, paints moments not as they are, but as they mean.
Ari Székely – Top Featured Star.
Sunset as Meditation
Her painting “Sunset Yoga” is a study in stillness. Two figures kneel in silhouette, reflected in water, framed by a golden sky. Their forms are fluid, anchored, undisturbed. There is no audience. No performance. Just breath. Just presence. It is a visual meditation, capturing a rare moment of pure being.
Here, Székely’s watercolor technique enhances the softness of the scene, letting light and water dissolve into one. The simplicity of the composition reveals a deeper sophistication: the profound emotional resonance of peace hard-won.
Recognition Rooted in Integrity
Aranka Székely’s work has been featured in art books and magazines throughout Europe and the United States. Her paintings have appeared in numerous exhibitions, drawing acclaim not for their spectacle, but for their sincerity.
But perhaps her most remarkable achievement is not fame—it is her unwavering dedication to emotional truth. Her art does not imitate. It initiates. It invites. It heals.
She does not paint to escape reality. She paints to complete it.
The Art of Becoming Whole
So what is the thread that weaves through all of Székely’s paintings?
It is the desire to create balance. To honor the full spectrum of the human experience—not just its chaos, but its quiet, its grace, its inner bloom.
It is the belief that the woman is not a subject. She is a universe.
It is the courage to say: I see suffering every day, and yet, I choose beauty. I choose hope. I choose to paint.
An Invitation to Look Again
If you are tired of art that distances you, turn to Aranka Székely. Her work doesn’t ask to be decoded. It asks to be felt.
Visit her portfolio: ateliernataliagromicho.com/arankaszekely Follow her on Facebook: facebook.com/aranka.szekely.5
Let her paintings remind you of what’s possible when a woman dares to live her inner truth—in medicine, in motherhood, in solitude, and in art.
Let Aranka Székely’s paintings bring you back to yourself—one brushstroke at a time.
Viviana Puello
Editor-in-Chief
