It is written that Pablo Picasso once said: “Art is theft.”
I really don’t know what he meant by that. Was Picasso a thief?
A trip to Napa during the Thanksgiving break is where magnificently colored vines and bold wines gave way to an awakening of senses! God’s gifts to nature; laborers gifts to my eyes; trembling hands grabbed hold of what did not belong to me; I captured the brilliance as mine. I shook the vines and branches, keeping a watchful eye that I was not caught in the act of picking up the tousled rose and poppy. I flicked away a busy honeybee from a sprig of enjoined rosemary and lavender to add to my bouquet. A single rose tempted me with her fiery red lips. I placed the stolen gift underneath my coat and together we ran through the trails until we were met by a champagne flute left behind by a single lover. Against the backdrop of the crimson sculptured wall, the stolen art is mine!