When I spoke to people about living in Oaxaca there was one comment that I remember specifically. “When you get back to the Bay Area everything is going to seem a little drab and muted." "My house is not going to feel that way," is what I thought… then. Now, when I think about going home, I already miss the colors. Every day, on every corner, on each person, in the markets, on each building, with every pile of vegetables or plastic toys, the colors speak to me, and say, "don’t forget us!" I promise I won’t. Fair warning to neighbors and friends I might ask for help painting a few walls.
And now let me introduce you to my friend red.
So I'm not going to hang a pig head in our kitchen, but a blood-red floor could make an appearance. -- Natalie
Great photos of your new friend. Kitchen floor is calling, I can hear it from here.
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