When I was young, I HEARD color. Words and phrases were colors. The alphabet was not symbols to me, but colors. It took me forever to learn to read. I got in trouble in the first grade for going to town with a box of Crayolas in my phonics book. It made sense to me. My brain is wired funny. They give it a word - synesthesia. I think it falls under the category of learning disability. I think it's a gift. I love color. I love color even more than form. I thank God for color, in all its screaming, singing hues.
Joining Emily today - Imperfect Prose on Thursdays