Angels are white. Little girls in First Holy Communion white dresses. Ceilings are white as are clouds which I've come to believe are really holes in the sky.
Sometimes the Prozac doesn't work on the days of intense creativity. It hides in the colors that flow from my veins through my fingers. Jon used to tell me it was my subconscious colors; red, black, eggplant purple, all fighting to color the green leaves their own.
I just say it's surreal.