The Long Habit of Color, and a Laura Geringer Note

Ever since I started writing poetry (I was nine years old, I was a tomboy, I was a loner), I was color obsessed. Not that I could name all the colors, and not that I could paint, but I found that I could not write a poem into my blank journals unless I'd watercolored the whole page first—given the poem a bed of molten color to ride on. This made for some rather soggy poetry journals, some deeply porous word choices, and a whole lot of feeling to go along with not-so-much story or depth. Still