While I draw in the street, a woman comes to me and asks a portrait of her son. It'a hot oustide, my bottom feels painful on the rock stairs, so I propose her to go in her home.

Once in the house, i try hardly to paint the little boy that stops to move during ten seconds. The young mother is delighted. Then the grandmother comes. When she understand what's on, she asks me to add on the sheet the portrait of her own father, the great-grandfather of the child. I understand something like he was a great guy and he is dead.

She gives me a very damaged picture, it is hard to guess the face of this man. But apparently the sketch is lifelike. Then the grand-mother is delighted too. I gave them the draw, and the party starts.

They invite me for lunch, and I spend the half of the day with this family. Nobody speaks english, but we simply communicate.

This day does a lot of good to me.