It is. And Piotr's never minded companionable silences.

If he'd known her for longer, he might keep painting. Maybe he will later anyway. But it seems a bit rude, as it is, and this isn't the kind of painting he can give half his attention to. So he sets brushes and palette down, carefully, and attempts idly to scrub some of the paint off his hands. It doesn't work terribly well.

After a minute or so, "Do you draw? Or write, anything like that?"

He's curious, is all; it's conversation.