it’s 0 degrees this morning. the chicken’s water is ice, the pond is ice, mate’s beard froze to his face while getting the car started this morning, along with the nasal drip suspended from his nose. yet here is this photograph from a street scene in cuba with no cold in sight and it keeps drawing me back to it over and over again; warming me up for some reason!
there’s all these grey parts to it: co-existing beside and between the colors. see how some of the truck is ultramarinish and the rest is just lackluster and grey? the cyclist is in shadow yet he holds something yellow, pinched between his fingers, that somehow stayed in the light; the dark didn’t steal it away did it?
it’s all happening at once amidst terracotta rooftops and cerulean skies . . .. reminds me of life, well mine that is! there’s bright colorful parts and there are grey parts too, light and shadow flirting with the rainbow, and some elements we can let go of and some we keep sharp and keen, holding tight between our lips or under our hats, in a purse or pockets, and our footsteps might be grey walking into color, or color fading to black, yet *all* of it forms the whole picture, without which the fabric of *being* would be entirely different, changed in some way as yet imperceptible but hinted at in these tints bouncing back and forth between the buildings . . … yes, i really do like this picture! what does it say to you?