Looking back into the kitchen I could see the stacks of pizza stones and smell the freshness of the dough. Often after a painting session I would have to eat something.

In the places I frequented I made friends. Language was a barrier for me but I was able to share a common love for the place they worked. The staff treated me well allowing me to sit amongst them as they prepared for a busy day at the restaurant. They always provided me with coffee and respected the work I was doing. I felt honored by their graciousness.