Yesterday I spent time walking in a technicolor dream. A town so colorful that half its name occupies a stripe in the rainbow. A place where creativity and hard working passion seem to crash through every street corner like a tidal wave of prismatic pigments. The energy hits you with a force so irresistible that you find yourself craving to be caught in its kaleidoscope of rolling currents.
I couldn’t help but be drawn to the line of shops painted tuscan yellow, lavender and teal. Catty-corner sat a turquoise, wooden bench decorated with groovy, white and pink flowers inviting any well-worn traveler.
Inside the Village Artisans, an awe-inspiring boutique showcasing local artists work, a simple hand painted piece captured my attention. At the check out counter I took part in a conversation that I won’t easily forget.
“Are you an artist?” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. She continued, “You look like you’re into the arts.” Bashfully I answered, “Yea, I mean I love art… But I enjoy writing, writing is more my thing.” Matter of factly the woman replied, “Writing is art.”
Smiling I said, “I suppose it is.”
Thank you MRA, for adventuring with me. Also thanks to @foxglovefollies for letting me capture that moment in time.