…they like when you draw their face. They look like they're apologizing when their color turns bad.
Their ideas come out through their fragrances.
They come to you with all their smells, talk to you about the fields they had to leave, about the rain that fed them, about the early evenings that they remember.
While I'm painting the shapes of a fresh peach, I realize that within its reflection, it shares the same warm shade, the same love for the sun and the same past dream of freshness than an old apple…"