The instructor looks over the woman's shoulder at the canvas that blossoms with peonies so real you could feel their feathery freshness, smell their perfume.

The woman pulls her brush back from the painting, her head lowers an inch into her shoulders and she waits.

It is an astounding image that is taking form on the canvas, it is the best her best student has ever done. The instructor nods, murmers nice, and goes to move on. But there is something that catches her eye and she wonders if the woman can truly shrink into herself. She turns back, puts a hand on the round slope of her shoulder, and tells her how truly a wonderful artist she is.