The geranium planted pots frame the window of the house, frame the windows of the city, reframe our perspective of colour and building walls. The sounds of colours percolate through the city of Marabella as a mark of pride.  The city has evolved from a beach town to a playground for the wealthy.  The fountain in the middle of the park draws the eyes to the waterfront through the only vista remaining after the balance of the park was used for prime residential construction.

The seasoned Bougainvillea vines drape heritage balconies on the more than four hundred year old building. In the ground floor bar, the sounds of injustice and corruption settle with every glass.  The wrought iron speaks of history.  The magenta vine speaks of contrast.  The heritage house and the current tenants sound like progress.  Yet in this white washed city colour alone won’t work.

The boxed pipes in the organ loft waft the sounds of silence across the gathered prayerful.  The sounds emanating from the balcony underscore the roles.  The faithful and fearful gather for comfort. Rest.  In the Iglesia de la Encarnacion the architectural grandeur and real gold has become more important than its primary purpose.

Echoing the sounds emanating from the organ the voices speak toward the alter piece. There the pedestals of presence undershore one more Mother of us all.  One more Sophia.  One more glimpse at the tree of life.  Behind the glitter and the gold there is a view to the remaining vista.  The organ pipes the opening bars and the bar inspires wisdom.