There's nursing home right behind where I work. Some of the residents are annoying but a few are adorable, happy despite their situations. I keep telling myself I need to stop getting attached to them, they're over there for a reason. Pieces of my heart die with them.
One of the newer residents is Vasco. He's from Spain and fancies himself as Picasso. He's wandered around the Quarter for years selling his painting for whatever he could get for them. He was pleased as could be to discover that I speak Spanish and has appointed me his new best friend.
Vasco asked me which I liked the most, buildings or flowers. Buildings. He brought me a painting he did of The Dumaine House. I can't say as I remember offhand what the house looks like so I'll have take his word for it.
The nutty thing was how almost started attacking the painting. Yes, it's not technical and looks kinda childish. BUT - I like outsider art. I like wild colors. I like suggested movement. And it was a gift. So there!
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