I took a risk. I know I did. But I have no cause for complaint.
Where paint was ammunition and the DJ’s beats ear-deafening, last night’s “Caribbean Paint Party” was a war zone for myself and my camera.
Violent wouldn’t be the correct word to describe the event, though. Chaotic? Quite. Party-goers couldn’t raise the roof any higher–by 1:00 a.m. the plastic ceiling was wavering; by 2:00 a.m. it had joined dancers on the floor. Expectedly, not a single white t-shirt survived. All were infused with flamboyant colors, whether casualties of a paint-caked hand or the reckless flick of colorful liquid flung across the room. New fashion styles were born, hair was dyed, and at 2:00 a.m., the most popular activity on campus was not sleeping, but showering.
Unfortunately, myself and my rather obtrusive, blinding flash photography were swiftly kicked out of the event, but here’s a small glimpse of last night’s Caribbean Paint Party: