Thomas was looking at the painting. He was impressed. It’s different, he said. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, he continued. The colors, even the colors are remarkable. How did she do it?
It was 8 pm, and I was hungry. Thomas was still talking about the painting. The discussion was fascinating. But he always ended with the same question; how did she do it?
It’s the artist’s way, I said. I wasn’t really trying to answer his question. It just happened. I looked up in the sky, imagining the clouds dancing, surrounding me.
What’s the artist’s way, Thomas asked?
I wasn’t expecting the question. I didn’t have an answer, but without thinking much, it came out naturally. They play, I said. They practice creativity by playing. Like the spontaneous activity of children. That’s how, I said.
I was still looking at the dancing clouds, as I said it. I could see a glimps of the sun. I was smiling as I imagined what Thomas was thinking.