Going Pink

Walking through Paris one morning, and coming upon this pink street, I was wonderfully impressed and jarred by the intervention, somehow an act of graffiti occupying an unusual space, that of the street, a horizontal plane, with no direct message, but a block of color as its only signifying image, no scrawl or tag but a pure sign (I only notice the few letters to the side afterwards, upon looking at the photo... but at the time, my eyes delighted in the color alone, like a swath of cotton candy gone missing...), which made me linger along the street, to trace the pink, as an action-painting without masculine angst, but a light agency (pink rights, gay pride, or just some candy-coated excess initiated by late night guerillas) turning the street into a space of laughter or at least smiles.