So then i went to France, to paint a wall. It was a commission from the municipality. They gave me 40 square meters and the trust that i would convert those in something worth the while.
They were really very sweet. They gave me an apartment to live in during the 3 weeks that i thought i would need, a bike to carry me to supermarkets and construction markets, and they drove me around to find the spray cans and varnish that i lacked.
I lacked quite a few. Because i had made photos of the place the year before at the end of an October day, and inspired by those, i had made a design that required like 60 grey spray cans. But when i came there in June, nothing was grey! It  was all optimistic greens and deep sky blues and joyful beiges and OMG what to do with all my grey! A miscalculation i hope i will never repeat.
First we had to scrape off the peeling layer of paint that covered the wall, so with masks and heavy machinery and professional peeling paint off walls - suits, we did the job. I felt very cool!
Then it started to rain, and i couldn’t paint (although i tried) and then it rained even more, and then it rained some more. And with the lack of good colours, the lack of a suitable design and the time flowing like raindrops through my fingers, i started to feel  like verrrry nervous.
And then the sun came out. And i made long days, to gain back all that lost time. Hours and hours per day, 8 and 10 hours per day, in the burning sun. Oh, life is hard for a maker of art!!! (My tan is great though)
And meanwhile the people of Thyez were so sweet. Inviting me to dinners, wine, cheese, onion soup, coffee, concerts, pizzas, books in french ( I read one and a half, i feel so cool!) and clean sheets and towels.
And then the job was done, and all the mayors (there are like 2 and a half in that village) and important people came to hear my stumbling explanation in french and my words of gratitude, and to pose together for the photo for the newspaper.
​And then we happily went to enjoy the quiches and Spanish vegetarian treats (isn’t that extra sweet of them) and wine and local beers to celebrate that, really, sometimes life is quite simple and we don’t always need to weep over refugees or lost animals or injustice or political prisoners: sometimes we can just come together to celebrate that a wall has been painted. Yes.