I pacenervously waiting for the doorbell to ring. The bell rings. "I'm agirly man ..." I tell myself as I reach for the door. On the otherside are ...wo women whom I don't know. They don't seem surprised to seeme or my outfit. I welcome them and escort them into the family roomwhere Susie is waiting.The next few guests are about the same. All women. None of whom Iknow. Each smiles at the sight of me. One even giggled. "Cute," shesaid.I'm not so lucky with the next guest. I open the. ’ ‘I paint because it is art,’ he persisted, ‘art is the most immediate way to become close to others. Every stroke of paint, tells you who the person was, or what they felt or what they knew, anything and everything about them.’ ‘You sound so sure,’ I though back to the forest, and it saddened me. Perhaps I never knew him, the one I loved. I had never seen his art, there had never been a stroke of colour on his cheek to see. There was nothing to see. ‘I am sure.’ He said succinctly. He. More

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