Continuation of the blog My father taught meThat an apple is not just redBut a mixture of many colors,If you looked very close Through his eyes I learnedTo see the world, not likeOther children viewed it,But to feel the worldWith crayons, color pencils,Paints and pastels,For my father's callingWas to be an artist..."Look up at the sky"He would say as he pointed"What colors do you see?""Blue", I would reply"Yes", he agreed "But twentyShades of blue...now look again." Read next feature >