The colour white is the absence of memory.
-Stephen King
Her people had given up colour to mark their resistance. They only wore black.
Funny, she thought,black is the unity of all colours. But she obliged nonetheless,burdened by the grief of her people and their shame. Shame of being powerless.
But they couldn't get inside her head. Inside, it was technicolor in motion, constant patterns weaved into thoughts, thoughts into incantatory words, words into stories, stories into paintings on bleeding tree barks.
So today when she walked into the forest, she did so with a purpose, a question only colours could answer.
"WHEN DO WARS END AND WHY SHOULD I CARE?"
And her vision was only blinding white.
Raise a white flag?
No. Just raise white words and colour it with your innate innocence.
Soon the black of a ticking time bomb and the red of a holocaust will become the colourful heartbeat of a hummingbird.
The nature is the universal truth. And the key is your mind. That was only because it was the only place that wasn't a ruin, it was whole, absolute, untouched, all yours. The only undisputed territory. Your mind pre-dates the big-bang, their lies the unfragmented truth.
"It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.
And white will take you to the river you seek."
So she wore the most pristine white skirt woven with the finest hope, and she wore it with an armour of colours so bright, war stood no chance.
The war ended. Just like that. A vision in white.
What did she tell them?
"You'll find the most pristine peace in the waking hour of early dawn, not during the darkness of the dusk."
She raised her white flag. So should you.
A special thanks and a big hug to Kavita, the cutie with a vision behind the camera who turned a weirdo into a gypsy goddess.
Follow her work HERE
You can also follow her on INSTAGRAM
-Stephen King
Her people had given up colour to mark their resistance. They only wore black.
Funny, she thought,black is the unity of all colours. But she obliged nonetheless,burdened by the grief of her people and their shame. Shame of being powerless.
But they couldn't get inside her head. Inside, it was technicolor in motion, constant patterns weaved into thoughts, thoughts into incantatory words, words into stories, stories into paintings on bleeding tree barks.
So today when she walked into the forest, she did so with a purpose, a question only colours could answer.
"WHEN DO WARS END AND WHY SHOULD I CARE?"
And her vision was only blinding white.
Raise a white flag?
No. Just raise white words and colour it with your innate innocence.
Soon the black of a ticking time bomb and the red of a holocaust will become the colourful heartbeat of a hummingbird.
The nature is the universal truth. And the key is your mind. That was only because it was the only place that wasn't a ruin, it was whole, absolute, untouched, all yours. The only undisputed territory. Your mind pre-dates the big-bang, their lies the unfragmented truth.
"It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.
And white will take you to the river you seek."
So she wore the most pristine white skirt woven with the finest hope, and she wore it with an armour of colours so bright, war stood no chance.
The war ended. Just like that. A vision in white.
What did she tell them?
"You'll find the most pristine peace in the waking hour of early dawn, not during the darkness of the dusk."
She raised her white flag. So should you.
A special thanks and a big hug to Kavita, the cutie with a vision behind the camera who turned a weirdo into a gypsy goddess.
Follow her work HERE
You can also follow her on INSTAGRAM
I am wearing :
Crop Top: PolkaDotAndYou
Skirt: Naf Naf
Footwear: StreetStyleStore
NeckPiece: Streets of Sarojini Nagar Market
