Masai Red
As a little girl in Kenya I remember seeing Masai standing in the markets, one foot lifted and resting on the other knee, red robe draped majestically around them. The red was so deep and crimson.
As a little girl in Kenya I remember seeing Masai standing in the markets, one foot lifted and resting on the other knee, red robe draped majestically around them. The red was so deep and crimson.
Boxes of stones lie awaiting placement, sometimes sitting for years on the workshop walls until such time as they will be called upon to provide the right shade of shadow on a lemon, or the right tone of pink on a cheek.
Tag: Flowers