Every March, when SXSW invades Austin, I’m struck by just how much black the tourists wear. Granted, being a rock’n’roll kind of a place, locals wear a lot of black too, but usually offset by denim jeans, a red t-shirt, brown boots, perhaps a colorful scarf. By contrast, the conference attendees wear black as a uniform. Black leather pants, black turtlenecks, black skinny jeans, , black scarves, black hats, austere black messenger bags. As an acute observer of the color palettes created by crowds of people, I’m fascinated by this shift, this splotch of darkness plopped into the clear shiny brightness of early spring. Combined with the traffic jams, piles of trash everywhere, and the inevitable mud from spring rains, March leaves me with an impression of smudginess blurred over the city. Black, with everything.