when the sky is a certain opaque* cloudless blue and I see it against red brick, the natural canyons of Arizona appear to my mind. It seems incongruous, but no, the 2 opposing color schemes stir the mind's eye in the way they do out west: orange, blue, orange, blue, orange, blue; the rods and cones shudder in their little retinal homes. Brooklyn is canyon country.*[see Wittgenstein's Remarks on Colour]
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