"Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the eight-color boxes, but what you’re really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I’ve got a few missing. It’s okay though, because I’ve got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the eight-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean, there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation, so when I meet someone who’s an eight-color type I’m like, “hey girl, magenta!” and she’s like, “oh, you mean purple!” and she goes off on her purple thing, and I’m like, “no - I want magenta!"
*Disclaimer – This is not necessarily true for me. I know a lot of 64 color boxes. This may be because I strenuously avoid 8 color boxes as a rule, but I thought it was funny and worth sharing because there certainly have been times when I felt pressured to present as an 8 color box by other 8 color boxes I was around. I never do well in those situations and it always feels lonely there.
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“People observe the colors of the day only at the beginnings and ends, but to me it is quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors…” excerpt from The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak.
Beautiful…thanks for sharing that Mary.