"Aw, well. I'm flattered," Joe smiled into his drink, appreciative of Dawn's easily sociable nature. It took these invisible cinder-blocks off of his shoulders, really, having somebody who could navigate conversation like she did.
For the moment, he looked at his painting with fondness. But just as he took a sip, his smile dissipated behind the rim. The painting, despite Dawn's kind and helpful words, still wasn't good enough. It was going to drive him crazy, putting up all these paintings and never feeling altogether proud of them.
"Whoa, I'm sorry - back up," He paused a moment, pulling himself out of his gloomy artist raincloud of self-doubt, then quirked his head her way. Joe whisked his index finger as if rewinding a reel of film, something totally outdated but super-cool in his humble opinion. "You barely passed art? Who the hell was your teacher - did they expect you to paint Guernica or something?"