Painted with Milk

To my critics:
I have to make a confession: I can't really paint.
But I like potatoes—and that's all I have ever painted, potatoes. This should explain why my flowers bend to the ground, and bees—well, they look like flying vegetables.
Now, if you think this is a painting of a cold rider on a tired donkey you are mistaken! This is a hot potato in a landscape of mashed potatoes.
It's what I like.