"Oh," she said, thinking about that. "I didn't know that about abstract art. And I certainly wouldn't want you to do something that is uncomfortable or force-like. Hmm." She sat back down on her bottom, on the floor, one forearm still draped along the edge of the couch. Looking at the TV she said, "I can't design anything. I'm not good at art, not really." Looking back, she met his eyes and smiled, "Maybe we'll just go with flowers or something. Soft, romantic...something along those lines."