Just in case the next person asks why my favorite color is black. Black is a chalkboard, versus the freshly gesso-d canvas we dream of. Both blank, but the former is erasable: mistakes are okay. They’re meant to be made—but that doesn’t mean they can’t be fixed. Black is mysterious, black is groundedness, black is sexy, black is the result of all the colors crashing and combining.
Black isn’t nothing. It is everything.
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Your turn. Thoughts?