I was at the computer and I saw a shadow cross the sink, a large and moving shadow. It had to be someone wanting to peek in my window from the fountain up above. I went outside, and called to the friend who admitted trying to see into my kitchen to see if I was there. Friends were waiting to catch the little bus to the market.
Later, from up in my studio, I heard the little bus stop. This time I peeked out, in fact leaned out on the balcony rail carefully avoiding the pigeon poo on the marble deck and called out to them. Others were getting off the bus, shopping being passed in bags, and a general discussion about who should carry what ensued. I added to the confusion by trying to hold a conversation in Italian with one and English with another.
I'm sure, with a little imagination, some comedy script could evolve from days such as this.
I resisted the temptation to call out that it was time for a cuppa, and am glad because as I turned back from the balcony I saw immediately which areas of the painting needed to be altered a little.
I think it was the break in concentration that allowed me to see again.
Today I am grateful for curiousity.