Time passes. A light stepping figure enters stage left. He passes once. Passes twice. I’m working and I don’t look up. I notice that his shoes are sort of slip-on light brown leather loafers with zigzag stitching. Third time passing and he speaks. “So what is going on here?” I look up. I tell him that I am making paintings. He is under dressed in khaki shorts and a polo shirt. He tells me that he is looking to have himself painted as the Mona Lisa and asks if I would be able to do that. I’m fully interested in the idea and suggest that he have a seat. We chat for a bit and it is refreshing. I’m curious to how I will approach this and feel completely relieved to not be thinking about the storage container. Steve Lewis, or shall we say “Mona Lewisa,” is a fascinating and friendly guy. He’s teaching an animation class and building robots modeled with a computer program that he designed. I know I am doing him an injustice here by attempting to describe what he does. He tells me about his daughter who is starting her MFA at Parsons. He was just on his way to Lee’s Art Shop to pick up supplies for tomorrow’s class and just happened to walk past me. He chats on the phone while I try and recall a mental image of the Mona Lisa. I almost don’t want to attempt this imitation, but it’s so mysterious of a thing not to care about.