Life Ten Colours, Ten Moments We Carry in Our Minds
Ask someone to think of red, and they will rarely think of red itself. They will think of something specific: a little light, a particular sound, an afternoon in November. We do not store colours in our memory as colours, but as scenes in which we once encountered them. And behind almost every such scene there is a real, verifiable story: about physics, coincidence, or a glue that would not hold.