They talked cordially for a few minutes, both women hanging on his every word as he described his life as a painter."... and as I said in class, Mioki... you must LIVE what you paint. The artist must FEEL, have a true PASSION for life, else the image on the canvas is a lie."Mioki felt her heart in her throat. Never had anyone aroused such feelings in her. She felt as if she were awakening from a stupor to, at last, understand life and the hunger for that life the artist must experience. She also. 'The house is too noisy and Stefan irritates me sometimes, so I came here. And at five sharp they turned the building's air off and the temperature's been creeping up ever since. The blinds don't do a thing to help: I was about to give up.' She had removed her jacket and undone the top three buttons of her blouse. Her tights were draped over the back of the chair and her long legs were propped on the desk, slightly parted to let the air reach her. Elena sat at her desk and copied Anita's. More

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