Postcard to Alice #60211-2

It is here when all is gone, you see that little face of lost memories. I see that child playing with her dolls and drawing with her crayons. The paper is all white, the crayons are all white, the dolls are all in white. How often does she wonder of other blues and hues. But perhaps white is safer for her to imagine everything. To illuminate her world with precision and vividness.