Adventures In Orange

Gonzales, Texas, on a Tuesday afternoon. Wandering the quiet sun-bleached town. Remembering. Nothing special happened, no epiphany, just the slightest breath of the past, a faint scent to remind me of what it was like to look forward to something.

I snapped this in the mirrored window of a locksmith's shop ("space for rent", the sign said) because of the novelty of blending in with the color scheme.  It almost never happens, you know. I somehow usually manage to clash.

Valentine Bug

Flu shots notwithstanding, we've been brought low by the flu bug this Valentine's day. At least we had some pink heart-shaped cookies, though, and some adorable aliens as well...

Take the color where you can find it, on yet another grey and drizzling day.

Temenos Tropicalia, Or The Color Of Sacred Space

Last week, my son and I went to lunch at a restaurant with an unusual color scheme. Despite the statues of Buddha and the mandala wall hangings, it had a distinctly Jamaican flair.

It had been my son's idea to eat there, he had been wanting to come for a while.

After we'd ordered and sat down at the table, he told me why.

He said, I don't understand it,  but for some reason this feels so much like home. As if I came from somewhere that looked just like this. But I can't think of where. Just 'home.'

While there were a few places in Victoria that had bright color schemes, they were few and far between. While it's possible this is what he was remembering, what he wouldn't have known (unless he'd read that post linked above) is that I've had dreams of similarly colored places my entire life. And if anything feels like home to me, I suppose that would be it.

It occurs to me that perhaps sacred space doesn't always need to be a space at all. Maybe it only needs to be a color.

Candy-Colored Sky

Misperception can be a funny thing. Under the right conditions, it can even be charming. 

When I dashed out the front door the other evening, I was taken aback by the violet sunset lighting up the sky. What was even more surprising was the scent. A sweet, delicious smell hung over everything. It smelled just like the sky looked - like candy.

What I'd momentarily forgotten were the masses of  pink jasmine growing around the corner of the house.

 For just a split second, it had seemed like the sky had a scent. 

As misperceptions go, it was quite a lovely one.