‘Gods and devils marge in the crowd, coming and going in the variegated flow of the many. Here nobody has a job but everybody has lots to do.
The light shouts, the air dances, each person is a walking color. The blcak bodies cast green and blue shadows and the gloriuos breeze contains so many shades that the rainbow hided its head for fear of looking foolish.
Above the sea, splashed across to slopes of the flayed mountains, Por-au-Prince oresents itself to the eyes as a shrill palette of colours, were life gets disracted and forgets how little it lasts and how much it hurts.
Could it be that the city imitates the atrtist who paint the city?
Or is it without help of any kind that she transforms her garbage into beauty?”Colours’
Voices of Time