This morning, I finished my painting of the Café 2 Moulin, on le rue Lepic . I was surprised how the neighborhood people appreciated watching me paint it. I heard many stories, some very tender, but I will keep them for a rainy day because I'm off to paint again. The sun is shining.
I did get some advice from a man, with an air of authority, about how it should have been done. His wife, he told me, was an artist. I asked him if he gave his wife advice when she was in the middle of a work.
"I'm not giving you advice," he insisted,"just my opinion."
Then, while still painting, I asked the same question using the word "opinion."
He said, "You're the artist." and left me alone.
I guess he had learned to do that from his wife.
A worker at the green grocer behind me had been very nasty with me the day before.
I couldn't understand why until I watched him artfully arrange his strawberries this morning.
So much work and people were paying more attention to the painter and her palette.
Life is just not fair some times.
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