At a mournfully early age, we're taught, by pack mentality, to blend in, to assimilate. Or, if we are to stand out, to stand out for our beauty, our brains, our speed, our grace. But what about our individuality? Have we become so afraid of criticism, of being judged by those who happen to hold the scepters this go-around, that whatever color we expressed in childhood has faded into the accepted beige palette?
What happened to the kid who insisted on wearing a tutu to school? A Batman costume to the supermarket? The one who collected stones and bits of shell, pronouncing them treasures with the assurity of one who is in touch with a world larger than the dictates of what is deemed "acceptable"?
Recall that spark. Recall that color. And, if only for an hour, invoke her and defy the ordinary. Stand up in this skin--rainbows and glitter, saucy hats, wild hair and all.