“Trapani, Sicily is a great little fishing city. It is famous for its salt. There are many salt flats along the coast south of the city. The windmills are a beautiful silhouette on the horizon passed the harbor. I walked many hours that day looking for a scene like this. When I came across this area I was interested in, the men on the shore were repairing their boats and fishing. All they knew and loved involved the sea and the bounty she brings. I admired men like this. I decided to sit down on an old bucket filled with something that smelled vile and paint the scene. It was about 2 hours into my study, when a old Sicilian man strolled up to watch me. After a few short minutes he preceded with a barrage of comments and recommendations to how I could fix my boat (in my painting). My Italian wasn’t good enough to explain that he was at a higher eye-level than I was and it looked a little different from my perspective. It didn’t matter to me, I just enjoyed him talking to me and trying to help. I did listen with an open mind and learned a lot from this man. I think he was a fisherman himself, but I regret I did not ask him.”