merida, mexico.

It's only once I leave New York, the land of black overcoats and black jeans that I remember how much I love color.  























Mexico is so full of color and patterns and light.  The vibrancy kills me.  Tyler and I keep contemplating about which of the 517 dilapidated casa's and hacienda's that we pass on every walk should we buy.  We would fix it up and make it our winter retreat.  We would hide out during the month of February eating avocado, papaya, and limes.  We would drink tequilla on the rocks.  We would gorge on tacos and pizza (because apparently Merida has a big Italian influence. All my favorite foods in one place.  This is paradise.) 

This place is so beautiful it hurts.  It's also serves as a reminder of the wealth and riches that used to reside here. Now it's nothing more then the bones of it's former glory.  If I had millions and billions I would return this city to it's former state.  I would make it a place people seek out.  A place people see people pictures of feel a sense of awe and wonderment.  

So. Much. Color. So much to love.