Lila and I both love painting, but we couldn’t be more different—she paints vibrant landscapes with bold brushstrokes, while I stick to quiet watercolor portraits. Every Sunday, we set up our easels on the balcony, spread out our supplies, and paint for hours. Sometimes we talk, swapping stories about our weeks; other times, we work in silence, the only sounds being the wind and the scratch of brushes on paper. Last week, we decided to collaborate on a piece: she painted the background—a sunny meadow with wildflowers—and I added a couple sitting on a bench, holding hands. When we finished, we stepped back to look at it, and Lila smiled. “It’s perfect,” she said. “Because it’s us—different, but fitting together.” That’s what I love most about our hobby: it’s not about being good at painting; it’s about sharing something we love, learning from each other, and creating something that represents our relationship. Every stroke is a little piece of us, woven together.