|Morocco's blue city, Chefchaouen.|
We live in a two-story, pink stucco building which has the word "Capri" as part of its name on the facade. The color and name make giving directions easier, make it harder to miss Other apartments on the block are less emphatic. And I'll bet they don't have pink bathtubs.
Yet our Capri quarters lose any exotic cachet, however slight, when compared to the varying shades of blue in Morocco's once-secret mountain city of Chefchaouen. (The link under the photo above provides history, background.) As I am so eternally drawn to colors, I wonder what variables may be at work as influences on mind and spirit in a blue city. Think of it.
I've written before that color is a language to me. It is also a vitamin, a tonic, an essential nutrient, a form of rescue and helium in the dirigible by means of which I will make my getaway. I may dream of Morocco's blue city, a round table next to the open windows, sipping a glass of golden tea while afternoon haze merges with shadowed robin's egg stairways before the market closes.
|Paint pigment for sale, blue for the exterior, colors for the interior.|