Being raised on the south of France meant spending your days outdoor.  Building treehouses in the garden and spending the night in it, picking wild asparagus and peppers at the bottom of vines. It meant picking with the most delicate hand delicious mushrooms without noticing the small worms living inside. It's kicking a pile of dead leaves to admire a tornado of bright yellow to dark brown colors. Is that the best way to learn how to paint nature? I don't know. We will as well spend whole afternoons contemplating tremendous canvas from an old provencal relative filling the walls of the barn we were playing inside, maybe its a mix of all that that triggers my debuts!