Yesterday night he came to the living room carrying a bowl of water. I easily understood that he is going to start painting now.
The next minute he walked in with a dry broken branch, that he had been carrying as a prized possession since the past 2 days.
And then he started to paint. Paint not on paper but on the branch. You should have seen the concentration on his face. And when I clicked him, he turned towards me with his brows furrowed and anger look which said "Why are you disturbing me?"