I went to college and law school in New Orleans, where many houses look as if they were decorated by a crazy person with a glue gun and a whole lot of jelly beans.
Like this:
and this:
and this:
This image and prior image from here.
One might think the city was planned by Emilio Pucci. Or, if you prefer, Hunter Thompson.
I live in the Midwest, where all the houses are brown. Or tan. Or white.
Although we did have one house in our neighborhood that was all pink: Pink mailbox. Pink shutters. Pink door. Pink gas meter. They were peculiar. Or they sold Mary Kay. Same thing.
We don't see candy colored houses where I live. We're somber. We're drab -- or dreary -- or dare I say -- colorless.
Israel.
Israel is not colorless by any means.
In all of Jerusalem, every building, by law, must be faced with a golden limestone referred to as "Jerusalem Stone." Every structure, even generic apartment blocks, blushes with golden and pinkish warmth:
The holy city of Safed (alternatively spelled Zefat, or Tsvat, or Zfat, or Newark) is the seat of Kabbalah, the school of thought concerned with Jewish mysticism. According to Kabbalah tradition, the color blue symbolizes Heaven; many buildings in Safed / Zefat / Tsvat / Tsfat / Paramus are ornamented inside and out with brilliant blue:
In Israel flowers can be yellow:
or white:
or purple:
Fruits can be purple too:
Spices can make you think of fireworks before you even taste them:
And clothing can make you want to facepalm until you pass out and awake with amnesia:
I kind of miss the audacity of brilliant colors.
