Scenes From an Itinerant Life
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“Your bag with its spindly stick figures, painted in red on the canvas-white, remind me of home. Or what was once home. Maybe you think of home too? Thank you for sharing your past with me.”
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You Can’t Invent A New Colour
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If white is a blank canvas, a slate clean of connotations, brown is one stained with the shadows of the people who came before you and the expectation of who you are supposed to be.
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