I don’t remember everything

I’ve found myself swimming through old photos (Japan, here) in muted tones and monochromes. Closer to memory, curiously enough, because I can’t seem to recall the colours of those days. Something about greens, and blues, browns. And back-lit neon, coca-cola reds, and yellows, yellows like some fruit you can’t get at home.

What do you lose when you drop the colour from your memories? What do you gain?

A land of a thousand greys, is what someone told me about Japan.

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