Color |
The yellow of the leaves of the tree near the corner of Washington
Avenue and Fair Street was such an attraction that I stopped the van and
gathered up a double handful and tucked them into a bag in my briefcase.
Wish I knew enough about tree species to tell you what kind they were.
Yellow, bright yellow, vibrant and swirling with the fall gusts.
Just couldn't help it.
I have been getting questions about what happened to this site. To understand the answer, you need to go back and read the journal entries on the previous page. The way I felt then, black felt right. And once I felt better, I felt freed from color, and started doing stuff, stuff that I like. So now, maybe it's time to do the color thing again. Try and find
some freedom with color. Course, freedom might get a little
too free. Watch out!
1. Intestines.
Mrs. Gershenbaum, in Moscow, sent a telegram to her husband , in Kiev:
"No code," said Gershenbaum. "Do you take us for fools? Just read these telegrams!" "Well, my wife is sick in the kishkas. So she went to Moscow to see a famous surgeon, and she wired me: 'Says to operate. Operate?' So I replied, 'Says to operate? Operate!'" --Leo Rosten, The Joys of Yiddish
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