Colors and I have an interesting history the past five or so years. I’ve written about how colors after the death of my father lost all meaning, and up until I started traveling, my life seemed as though I was in a monochrome void.
When I would see certain colors; greens, yellows, purples, blues, and others, it would transport me back to that fateful day as if color had become the harbringer of nightmares.
And then something happened.
I started seeing colors again, and for what they actually were.
The moment I stepped foot in New Zealand and began my first ever adventure abroad, it was as if the nightmare had become a peaceful dream. I could see the golden plains, the turquoise waters, the bright blue sky, the lush green forests. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope, with colors dancing on my retinas.
Big Boy Burgers, Nevada on Flickr.
For some reason the memory of stopping at Bob’s Big Boy on the way to Vegas just popped into my head. Happy Days.
Been there too! Also the worlds tallest thermometer