Since I was little, I’ve always loved apricots in the summertime — golden with a blush of red, tart and sweet, full of sunshine. When I was a child, my mum would often buy some fresh apricots from the market. She’d wash them and place them in a dish, ready for me to enjoy the moment I got home from school.
I used to save the apricot stones, slipping them into my pockets. After dinner, I’d meet up with friends to play a game: you’d toss one stone into the air with your right hand while quickly grabbing another off the ground — if you caught both, you’d win!
In secondary school, I spent weekends at my art teacher’s studio. There was a friend there who loved apricots as much as I did. We’d bring them along and nibble as we painted. Our teacher would set up still life scenes — apples, a vase, and a glass of orange juice. The moment she stepped out, we’d sneak a sip, then mix our watercolours to recreate the exact shade, quietly replacing the “juice” with paint . We could mix any fruit juice colour! I imagine he always knew what we were up to, but never said a word.
Now, whenever I paint apricots, these little moments resurface — sweet, light, and laced with nostalgia. That’s why I often use a soft background of purplish-red and yellow hues — like a memory seen through sunlight.
You asked if I had any stories about apricots. I do.
And if watercolours can carry memory, then here is mine — painted in quiet layers, with the taste of summer still fresh.
CLICK HERE to watch how this story unfolded on paper.
