“As I’m debating running for the exit, Nash leans down to whisper at my ear.“Is something wrong?”“I feel like the only splash of color in an abstract painting.”“You are the splash of color. But there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It was a bird. A bird struggling through stickiness: a bird coated in paint, floundering in its nest, splashing color everywhere.Red. Red. Red.Dozens of them: black feathers coated thickly with crimson-colored paint, fluttering among the branches.Red means run.”

“His gaze swept her head to toe. “You’re wearing my colors, love.” He stalked forward and leaned down to brush her cheek with a kiss. “Soon you’ll be wearing me,” he whispered for her ears only.”

“I also want the figurative like a painter who only paints abstract colors but wants to show that he does so because he chooses to, not because he can't draw.”

“When I paint, the Sea RoarsOthers Splash about in the bath”

“There’s nothing wrong with not looking like something. It just means you don’t fit the stereotype yet.”