Colours
He was getting close and away, narrowing his eyes and opening them, getting close and away. He meditates on the trees in the garden around him, then comes back and takes his brush to add a touch to his painting, a look then a touch, a look, and then a touch. I approached him to see how much he had succeeded in drawing the garden trees. There weren’t any trees in the portrait! Not a single branch! Only: a few naked mermaids climbed up with their loose hair in the night sky in which the stars were trembling!!
“Mad or is this one who pretends!” I said that to myself, and I turned away from him. But anyway I took two steps then I walked back to him… Oh, he was brilliant in acting, for all the trees around him were “Eva” among its hanging branches, the sun was breaking with its rays… breaking with trembling.
