no. 70

'His young eyes stored away each play of light, the sparkle of a jewel, the rich dressing of an altar, the burnish of a gold-toned saxophone or a field of blue stars.  The light fell upon the pages of his coloring book, across his child's hands.  Coloring excited  him, not the act of filling in space, but choosing colors that no one else would select.  In the green of the hills he saw red.
Purple snow, green skin, silver sun.
   ~ Patti Smith ~ (on Robert Maplethorpe) 'Just Kids'

no. 70