Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, the color of my skin and my rather peculiar background as an Ethiopian immigrant delineated the border of my life and friendships. I learned quickly how to stand alone.
My spray-tan woman is amazing. She comes to my house at 10 o'clock the night before a shoot. The results are so brown, flawless, and natural. It's just weird because my natural skin color is very white, almost whitish yellow.
Things like anatomy and drawing and design and color had pretty much been drop-kicked out of the curriculum in the '70s, when I was studying art, in favor of abstraction and minimalism.
Art brings a message into a room. It should make us perceive in a new way - either through color, form or narrative content - something we had not perceived before... and perhaps reveal something to you about yourself.
I have no real training in the history of fine art or furniture; my eye just works by proportions. I react intuitively. In London, it's all about color because the weather is so gray, and in that cold light they look beautiful.
Her hair was the color of coffee without cream, and she fell in love with me when I poured sugar on her. Probably.
We weren't so different, Finn and I. Cages come in lots of colors and shapes. Some are gilded, while others have a slamming door. But golden handcuffs are still handcuffs.
...his eyes were exactly the color of that gleaming golden-brown moss you see on stones under the clear water of running brooks.
Maybe what my sister wanted was to stay here and get married and have a family. Maybe that was her color of extraordinary.
Men's desire - it stopped for nothing. Even then,even when I was stained the lurid color of waste -- even then someone wanted me.
It’s so lame. Of all the colors in the rainbow we could have gotten, we get purple. Why don’t we just morph into purple dinosaurs named Barney instead of werewolves, too?
Maybe one day the smears of paint Harley left throughout Godspeed will fade, and maybe the stars never will, but i'd rather have Harley's colors.
My love is colorful, like a rainbow that’s only shades of blue. Monochromatic for monoamor.
The tatters of old stories are tangled, weathered, muted by long-held silences that succeeded loud feuds, and sometimes no doubt re-dyed a more flattering color.
Nakedness has no color: this can come as news only to those who have never covered, or been covered by, another naked human being.
As far as he could see, the drawings were simply alive. They might be colored earth on rock, but they were as alive as the kangaroo that'd just hopped away.
I almost never respect men. They're like flowers -- all show, a lot of color and lust. You pick them and throw them on the ground.
Hey, our hair's the same color," I said, eying us side by side in the mirror. "Sure is, girlfriend." Eric grinned at me.
But only a person in the depths of despair neglected to look beyond winter to the spring that inevitably followed, bringing back color and life and hope.
She said no to my sexual advances. Makes me wonder if she even knew the seven colors of the rainbow add up to the length of my penis.
Seeing a brightly-colored box, I asked, What’s that? She said nothing. So I said, “Ah, so that’s what silence looks like, huh?”
