You see, Moroccans intrinsically understood something very basic: the power of paint. Even in the smallest villages, doors were painted in fantastical colors and designs. It was......poetry...or it was Prozac. Or it was both.....
The blogging girl admired their bold confidence, their happy curly-Qs, their it's-only-paint-for-goodness-sake nature. She was fond of their fondness of turquoise and pink...
How was it, she wondered, that everyone else had become so....... boring....?
P.S. Do take a peek here to see the lovely vintage Moroccan wedding blanket (or wedding quilt) that darling Barbara in Australia purchased from me. I have a new stash of wedding blankets, in case you would like to have a little sparkley glamour, too. Drop me a line: maryam at mtds.com
