This is strange for a girl with a love of strong colour. I can feel myself drifting towards a visual softness which I have never experienced before. Where are my rich yellows, red and pinks. My bold spring grass and deep, matte turquoise. Maybe it's the weather, maybe being cloistered at home with two boys, maybe a deep yearning of the soul for apples and cocoa... who knows. Am I still allowed to call myself greedy for colour?