Bleeding the Sky Black at Olowalu, Maui [mood: Fraught]

dreams seem to be neither in color nor black and white. they're visual in the way
words are when you're reading--you see the pictures, sort of, but without shape or color,
more like ghosts who disappear when you look too close. the colors here at Olowalu are so exuberant
I get a perverse pleasure from rendering them monochromatic. in some ways it seems more true to life,
takes on a timelessness--perhaps because so much in newspapers and history books is depicted this way.