this blue, that blue 此蓝非彼蓝

Is a woman with blue lips and blue hair an avant-garde modernist? To some, she is not. To people like my mother, she is very much so. I could hear my mother scream in fear and anger if she were to see my lips and hair blue.

My mother’s daughter, I, however, approach this woman with blue lips and hair, and ask her if I can take a picture of her.

Slightly flattered by my attention, the woman with blue lips and hair is happy to be “copied” in my lens.

That is at the the entrance to the DC Chinatown Metro.

After that,  I go two levels down and I find another blue: A man with a hat in a wheelchair, waiting for the same train I am waiting for. In that dim light and with that hat and the passengers passing by him, he seems more blue than the woman with blue lips and hair.

somehow blue starts to follow me. When I get home and notice the last sunlight of the day caress my bathroom sink, then leave without warning, all I see is blue.








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