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Picture it: Sicily, 1912. A beautiful young peasant girl falls in love with an aspiring young artist. The go into the local pub. They laugh, they hug, they slam down a few boil makers.
They go back home and make passionate love. He tells her he is inspired by her beauty and wants to paint her. The next morning, after she scrubs off the fingerprints, she sneaks a peak at the painting he had done. She is insulted; IT LOOKS NOTHING LIKE HER! And she walks out of his life forever.
That peasant girl...was me.
The man...was Pablo Picasso
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