Stepping back, closing an eye, holding up a mirror, a thumb.
I've been painting in the dark to allow chance to select a color from my palette.
I remember someone in Budapest twenty years ago. At the Goethe Institute cafe a woman entered and sat smiling. A stranger, I still managed to ask her why she was smiling. She described how she was visiting Budapest because it was her favorite city. (Her other favorite was Reykjavik.) A city can be a pleasure, a taste like that of an ice cream cone.