Tapas parade on the copper counter of a bar in Granada. I sketch the atmosphere on a placemat smeared with grease. When I give my drawing to the boss, he folds it up, slips it between two barrels and offers me a glass of wine. A few regulars notice me and come to ask the price of a portrait.

After the question of time often comes that of money. How much is a drawing ? Too expensive, it's a scam. Not enough is to accept being exploited while practicing unfair competition. I consult scales, question other professionals, estimate the working time, adapt to the sponsor. Sometimes I refuse to sell a drawing whatever the price, while another times I give it for free, for pleasure.

If the art market concerns only a minority of connoisseurs, art itself is profoundly universal. I could see how much it affects everyone, culture and social classes combined, by traveling for many months with a notebook. I remember the mint teas, the kirsch, the strong coffees, the confidence offered by those who agreed to pose in dark kitchens or elegant living rooms.

Beautiful memories make drawings invaluable.