The City & a Blue Like No Other

We are staying at the Red Tree House where the men who work here know your name, sit and chat, assure you of your safety in the city and arrange taxis driven by men they know. It is a magical place.
This morning we met Sergio who would drive us anywhere and wait for us: diva gringas with no apologies. Of course it was the Casa Azure. It was more than a dream.
Outside the front door was a policeman with a gun on his belt and an automatic rifle strapped to his arm. But nothing could dilute Azure paradise.
Walking in the first room of paintings two separate people were audibly crying. Their tears were mine too. How well I understand what it means to study, to hold in one's heart the treasure of the painter. Once perceived and the painter is gone, the painting is as close as one will ever get.
Today I know it is her paints & brushes, her kitchen, her garden and her bookshelves that introduced, Frida, the woman to me.