Grandchildren share viral tictoc of their artist grandmother (exclusive)

Foster Mann had just graduated from California Polytechnic State University in San Luis Obispo. Without any set plans, she packed any bags and flew to France to visit her grandparents: a quiet recovery before anything came next.

In Provence, her days slowed down. She saw her grandmother, Alice Edgar Williams, gracefully moved between her sun -thinking art studio and the lush garden she had grown carefully. Her husband of 61 years – and Mann’s grandfather – Don, was usually nearby, coffee in his hand and soaked the same golden light as he silently admired Alice’s work and spirit.

“Painting is more than a hobby for her,” says Mann, 24, exclusively for people. “It’s her language, her way of communicating with the world. Looking at her color is like looking at time slowly down.”

Alice grew up in Greenville, SC, and had been imprisoned by art since she was 6 years old. She met Don in high school, and they got married in just 19. A few years later, she started painting seriously at 23.

When Dons IBM career took them from Dallas to Atlanta to Europe, he made sure there was room for Alice’s easel. Her art was not a side project – it was the center of their lives.

“My father always gave me a feeling that men were smarter than women,” Alice reminds people over zoom. “He told me to marry a man and be subordinate. I think that’s why I had to prove myself. I had to succeed.”

In Atlanta, Alice found her most formative mentors: Roman and Konstantin Chatov, two well -known Russian painters. “You could hear a pin fall into their studio,” she says. “No one spoke. Every painting had control.” She studied during them three days a week, three hours a day, for three years.

By the end, she had become a portrait painter-something she had never thought-and built a 12-year career that started with $ 200 commissions and ended with $ 15,000 portraits. She is now represented in galleries in the US and Europe, and people can also buy her art online.

“Together with painting, she is also an almost professional gardener and an incredible interior designer,” adds Don. “When people see our lives they see something she created. It’s not a bar in Brooklyn – it’s her garden, her home, her energy.”

Mann, who now lives in California, had always admired his grandparents. While she had heard them tell stories about their lives earlier, it witnessed this silent rhythm – this life shaped by creativity and devotion – which really caught her heart. When she observed Alice’s Brushstrokes and Don’s steady presence, she saw a kind of magic in their partnership.

For starters, it was not even a predominant to share that intimacy online.

“My brother was like,” put her on Tiktok, “reminds man.” And I was like, “No. I would never.” You don’t want to put your family out there for assessment.

Still, she filmed a few short clips – Alice painting, the flowering garden, silent moments between her grandparents – and published them. The first video received about 50 views.

“I was like, okay, I’m done,” she laughs.

But a month later she tried again – this time with a trend format. The video met a million views.

“Suddenly it was like – oh. Maybe it could actually be something.”

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Without full -time jobs got up, Mann leaned in. She started posting three times a day Tiktok and Instagram. Her videos captured the simple beauty of her grandparents’ life: morning coffee, garden rituals, soft kisses hello and goodbye – and always, the art. Alice’s brush stroke was not just part of the landscape; They were the heartbeat of everything.

Viewers around the world were drawn into Alice’s dreamy oil paintings, the couple’s lasting love story and the charm of life in the French countryside.

“I didn’t understand all this,” Don admits. “It’s still amazing for me. And it just keeps changing.”

“I was so protective of their integrity at first,” MANN adds. “Sharing their lives felt personal and vulnerable. But then I realized that people would really have to see something real and gentle.”

Now, when Alice and Don go out in Provence, people stop them. “They say: ‘I saw you on Tiktok!’ “Alice laughs.

Their appeal goes beyond the beautiful gardens and romantic landscapes. It is about the life they have built – alive, handmade, intentional.

“We represent something you don’t look much on social media,” says Alice. “People of our age are not always on Tiktok and Instagram.”

“They are the end goal,” adds mann. “Their love, a hobby, lives in France, simple things. Good bread.”

Their videos often have soft piano music and mild story-as the series marries your best friend, a tribute to Alice and Dons marriage for six decades.

“You wake up every day and ask: ‘Who do you love?’ “Says Don. “Not who you loved five years ago. Who do you love today? Because we change.”

Now both 81, Alice and Don collaborate with Mann in a coffee table book and an instruction guide based on Alice decades of teaching art workshops. They also document her painting process for future generations to learn from.

“It turns out to be wonderful,” says Mann. “We’re so happy to share it.”

Mann never imagined that this detour-a journey after class to France-not would only bring her closer to her grandparents but also launch a new career. After joining one of her favorite Youtubers, Margot Lee, she was offered a role that worked with her brand.

At the same time, her band continued with Alice and Don to deepen, especially during the latest adventures – including a family safari in Kenya.

“Your grandparents are such a special relationship outside your parents,” says Mann. “It’s just really happy.”

“I get to spend time with this little creative queen every day,” she adds. “Everything just … worked.”

The intergenerational proximity is part of what makes their story reason. Alice and Don embody the wisdom to look both forward and back – learn from the decades ahead and behind you.

“We’re in the eighties now,” says Don. “And I would really like to look at a few more decades ahead of us. There are not many people there, but that is why we love to look at man and people in their twenties. We continue to learn. It gives new energy in our lives. It’s just a beautiful exchange.”

For the millions of viewing, their story is a reminder that Joy doesn’t have to be high. It may be a man looking at his wife painting. A grandchild’s press disc. A lifelong artist who finally got the audience she always deserved.

“I hope people feel that their hobby is important,” says Mann. “That art is important. Even if you don’t sell it, even if no one is watching – do it because it brings you joy. And maybe, if you are lucky, someone will be there to film it.”