Kiwis began as a request from my mother, who became unexpectedly enthusiastic about fruit paintings after seeing my piña colada piece. This, of course, completely defeated the point because as I’ve said many times, I hate painting fruit. In an attempt to avoid another still-life project, I suggested we paint it together. She agreed… but only got as far as laying out the colours before quietly abandoning the canvas. For two years, the half-started kiwis sat on a shelf, untouched and silently accusing. Eventually, my mother issued the final ultimatum: finish it, or surrender to her ongoing reminders. So I completed the piece, partly out of love, partly out of artistic obligation, and partly because the canvas was never going to stop staring at me. Despite its origins in gentle coercion, Kiwis carries its own charm; a collaboration that almost was, a story of procrastination, and a reminder that sometimes art is made not out of inspiration, but out of persistence, humour, and the people who insist we keep creating.