After eleven years living, dancing, teaching tango, and writing in Buenos Aires, I came home to L.A. in 2014, where I'm reconstructing my life.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

TopBlogMag's writing theme for this week is colors, and so I'm posting...


It’s the end of May and the weather is perfect, but the traffic out of Paris is terrible. The bus passes fields that are rivers of green, of light and dark green undulating like flowing water under the sun, the wind blowing the fields to and fro like ripples of emerald waves. How many colors of green can there be? Certainly a greater palette than the box of crayolas that first taught me the names of colors. (When at last I visited Italy and saw the Tuscan city at sunset, I said, Ah, so that’s Burnt Sienna!)

But the ambient greens outside the windows of the bus range from yellow, blue, gray, gold, brown, and black in the depths of the trees, silver white in the glittering leaves under the sun.
So refreshing to my eyes after dry, dusty L.A., where there is little natural green apart from the color of money.

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