It is not known if Mirna is really mute or if she has never felt the need to speak. Her counterparts consider her an enigma: cold, arrogant and fiendishly gifted. He walks with her head high, long striding along the building, with a mere gesture of her long needles she gets her point across with starking austerity. Her sense of smell is so sharp she can distinguish each color particle’s odor, her is capable of knowing hues just with her touch, eyes closed. She loves her work. She was born to do it. Watercolor and graphite on canvas.