We as a nation and as a world are hyper about skin color. Nosey applications ask you if you are caucasian, black, brown, yellow and who knows what. How sad we are defined by just that. But let’s leave all that surface BS behind and get to the crux of the matter. Literally what is the color of your heart? Your soul? Scalpel please.
I have seen heart transplants on TV having been spared the open zipper approach my self. As they flip the defective one in a stainless steel bowl, slimy and a bruised shade of purple doesn’t engender a symbol of love and affection. Yet think about your own. Is it warm and welcoming or cold and gray? Black like ebon keys or a ruby red like a good wine. Does it say I am open to all or is it granite like, a fortress not willing to be challenged?
That incredible masterpiece of valves and plumbing sends a part of you coursing through your veins and arterials and begins to unmask your true mettle. Is your skin flush with crimson because of a soulmate’s kiss? Maybe irate? Maybe embarrassed? Do you even have feelings or are you wan and gray beyond signs of life? Does your skin radiate not from a deft surgeon’s hand but from depths of your personal canyons? Do you wear your age well and proudly or have you just let yourself go?
If you are your lips, are they red and vivacious or does the blue match the coldness in your heart? Your eyes. Are they soft hazel or steely blue? Maybe a deep mahogany betraying complexity? No matter how you try to be impervious they are a window into your soul. They can have the warmth of a fire or the chill of a rain soaked night. Can you see clearly or is your existence blurred as through opaque glass?
Time to leave the friendly confines of us and move out into nearby space. Are your children and family in general an amorphous pale blob that must be tolerated or does each one stand out like a facet of a beautifully cut ornate diamond. Daring to be looked at from a totally new angle and appreciated in an ever burgeoning beauty. Wow! I have never seen you more striking. So alive. So special. This is great stuff but I must move on.
Do you look outside and see the multitude of greens and reds and purples in the prism of life or is your sky sullen and overcast? Even worse are you devoid of any sense of person or at best oyster white? Do you see the rising and setting of that orange orb in all its splendor and really grasp what this thing called life is? What color or texture is your air? Is smog laden like wet insulation or crisp like a cold Perrier that feels so good to be sucked in? Do you see the dew glistening or just curse it for ruining your freshly buffed shoes? Can you meditate and take in each breath savoring its power to regenerate and let go of all things toxic on the exhalation? Are your days precious to be lived second by second or just another stop on this local train to oblivion?
What color is your job? Does it sear and challenge, dying for you to take another bite or is it bland like cold cereal or maybe a cold block of day old risotto? When you look at life are you a ref in zebra stripes or a coach with a faded red ball cap. Do you lay down rules for yourself and others or do you want to instill passion and excitement for the task ahead? Push your limits as well as theirs. Or are you and your charges full of don’ts.
What color is your favorite room? It is rich in leather with that slightly musty fragrance or perhaps bright and airy bombarding the senses? Does your living room have chairs that beckon you to sink deep down or are they stiff and formal warning off any interlopers? Monochromatic and indirect fluorescents highlighting beige walls. Elevator music. Viewing hours of the body will be between 7:00-9:00 PM. Donations in lieu of flowers.
What do your clothes say about you? Do you wear vibrant pinks, yellows, greens and poplins in the summer? Why don’t you wear them all the time? Do you shun the outrageous because you really don’t like to be bold or because you think your world won’t approve? An outrageous scarf or jaunty chapeau is just the thing for those mid winter blues.
So many questions. So few answers but then again…. Don’t tell me you don’t know because deep down you do. Life can be a palette of colors like beautiful balloons beckoning you to come on up and lift off. Paint with abandon. Try color variations by mixing and matching. Go ahead. Be avant and hurl those pellets of imagination at the canvas and revel as they explode into new delights. You are the only one judging this art fair and you get a ribbon no matter what.
I don’t like blacks and whites or even grays. Onyx and Pearl are interesting in geometric shapes but in a living room they seem to scream “Whoa” and leave your spontaneity at the door. I love tulips and roses and daffodils and daisies. Azaleas and peonies as they crack open. Seems like they go on blooming forever. But that is just me .
Do some of us embrace being neutral or do we just not know the way? It’s not fair to judge and I won’t try to tell you how to do things. But we should question from time to time. We should stop and take stock. We will never pass this way or that again and we owe it to ourselves to give it our best shot. Paint on mes amis. Paint on before those tubes of oil and acrylic dry up. No one is watching. Just do it!
Ted The Great
Factoids…None this week. Gone painting.