I come here to see you, of course, and for the kids to play — this world seems so full of excite­ment for them. Lit­tle things, phys­i­cal things, like the smells of peo­ple or leaves rustling in the wind. But me? I’m happy just sit­ting and watching.

Is that a sign of get­ting old? Maybe, but I’m still a long way from that. It’s just my enjoy­ment is dif­fer­ent from theirs, a peace­ful kind. And the world itself, full of excite­ment and dan­ger it may be, isn’t what I take my plea­sure from. Rather, it’s peo­ple — hearts and minds and emo­tions. That’s what makes humans so spe­cial, right? That’s my inspi­ra­tion, and at the same time that’s the can­vas on which I paint.