In schools you learnt about light and its properties. Light travels in straight lines, reflects, refracts, diffracts. Light is made of rainbows. Light is wily, not only a wave but also a particle. Light is why you see. You fabricate your daze of magenta from real light, like witches’ tales, with equal parts red waves and blue particles, or identical proportions of red particles, blue waves. Magenta, when you’ve made it, is purplish-red and reddish-purple, warm and cool, bright and indolent. Magenta is a happy sham really, like the lies you tell yourself, fleeting as fuchsias in the tropics.