Sunset

I've always thought that colors were the only way I could express my emotion. I see colors everywhere, I hear them, I taste them, and I feel them. They're the only solid thing I have in my life. Colors. Imagine water, blue is the first thing that comes to mind, liquid and crystalline. Imagine a fire, you feel the scorching red substance pierce your skin. They're substantial, I know they're truly there. It's not fake.

But are they?

What if we've spent our whole life thinking that what our vision tells us is the reality? What if color blind people see colors as they truly are and not vice versa? What if instead of seeing colors, you could listen to them?

I do. Listen to them I mean. I have a condition that allows me the privilege of listening to color, I hear all of them.

Colors are my being, so to speak. I love painting, always colorful and never black and white. It lets me escape my bubble of anxiety and depression.

When it's just me, the canvas, the brush, and the colors.