I love color.

Strangely enough, my memories usually contain very little color, and are blurry on the whole.

I remember plots, I remember emotions, I remember the idea of the moment, but colors (and details, and dates, and names) escape me very quickly.

Maybe this is why when I actually do notice brilliant colors they always seem so startlingly enjoyable.

Or my subconscious has the pleasure receptors of a five year old.

Either way works.