Turquoise: this sky does not belong to Georgia O'Keeffe, nor the hydrated phosphate of copper and aluminum mined to extinction in the hills of Cerrillos to Tiffany.
When my father was displeased, his blue eyes would shed all their warmth and depth and turn hard, like thin, pale ice on a stoop. Winter makes me think of him staring at me.
I love colors, all of them really, so when considering the walls of a room in a new house, I'm not a fan of neutral. I want an accent wall if the room is white or beige, say. Maybe a nice, dark red, or a forest green. Something that we can play off of when we start to fill the room with furniture and decorations.
When it comes to a car, I loved the combo of black and red. But I only had one car those colors. My cars have been black and red, black and gold, slate blue, white, fiery orange, deep purple, and ocean blue. The Jeep, our current vehicle, is a deep dark blue, so dark its almost black.
Oddly enough, with clothing I like bright, bold colors but my husband prefers me in pastels. Why is that, I wonder? To me, soft colors make my skin look pale and washed out. Of courses, black is slimming, so I wear a lot of that, but I try to pair it with white, or something to break up the monotony. I wear a lot of black and white, or dark gray in the winter time but brighter colors in the summer.
Green is calming, the color of peace. Maybe that's why I'm calm in our motor home. Inside, there are green, gold, brown, and maroon accents via the window treatments. That we did not change. Only the flooring, the furniture, and the countertops (adding a kitchen backsplash of grays and whites) were changed.
A musing on blue, scrunched up in a ferry seat last summer going to Mykonos: I understand why Homer called it the wine-dark sea. I don’t believe he didn’t have the ability to see blue, as scholars have claimed. I think he was searching, as I am, for the language that accurately describes the fluid changeability of water. The way it can buoy and drown you in the same moment.
My kitchen, with its bluebird sky blue trim and yellow accent wall, this colour only seen on suns drawn by tiny hands squeezing a classic Crayola crayon, was a link to my maternal heritage: Ukraine.
Hi, it's great to read everyone's beautiful sentences/paragraphs! I didn't keep up with the prompts last week, so today I did day 2. This was my favorite sentence that emerged:
"My son plunged his naked arm deep into the mud, pulled up fistful of orange, and smeared it over his skin, and soon all our limbs were the color of this desert clay, the color of the rim-falls pouring over the lips of cliffs lit by lightning, the color of these ancient rocks, the color of deep time."
Turquoise: this sky does not belong to Georgia O'Keeffe, nor the hydrated phosphate of copper and aluminum mined to extinction in the hills of Cerrillos to Tiffany.
(small New Mexico rant this morning)
Love this, Jane!
When my father was displeased, his blue eyes would shed all their warmth and depth and turn hard, like thin, pale ice on a stoop. Winter makes me think of him staring at me.
I’m surrounded by gray. The Pacific Northwest sky. My hair. My dog. A closet full of sweaters. Why fight it?
"I see a red door and I want it painted black." My favorite sentence about color.
Good prompt, got me writing this morning, thanks!
Thanks, Donna!
I love colors, all of them really, so when considering the walls of a room in a new house, I'm not a fan of neutral. I want an accent wall if the room is white or beige, say. Maybe a nice, dark red, or a forest green. Something that we can play off of when we start to fill the room with furniture and decorations.
When it comes to a car, I loved the combo of black and red. But I only had one car those colors. My cars have been black and red, black and gold, slate blue, white, fiery orange, deep purple, and ocean blue. The Jeep, our current vehicle, is a deep dark blue, so dark its almost black.
Oddly enough, with clothing I like bright, bold colors but my husband prefers me in pastels. Why is that, I wonder? To me, soft colors make my skin look pale and washed out. Of courses, black is slimming, so I wear a lot of that, but I try to pair it with white, or something to break up the monotony. I wear a lot of black and white, or dark gray in the winter time but brighter colors in the summer.
Green is calming, the color of peace. Maybe that's why I'm calm in our motor home. Inside, there are green, gold, brown, and maroon accents via the window treatments. That we did not change. Only the flooring, the furniture, and the countertops (adding a kitchen backsplash of grays and whites) were changed.
A musing on blue, scrunched up in a ferry seat last summer going to Mykonos: I understand why Homer called it the wine-dark sea. I don’t believe he didn’t have the ability to see blue, as scholars have claimed. I think he was searching, as I am, for the language that accurately describes the fluid changeability of water. The way it can buoy and drown you in the same moment.
👏👏👏
My kitchen, with its bluebird sky blue trim and yellow accent wall, this colour only seen on suns drawn by tiny hands squeezing a classic Crayola crayon, was a link to my maternal heritage: Ukraine.
The anti-totalitarian epic novel “Life & Fate” spoils my meal at the diner counter.
I spoon my tasty soup.
Viscous yellow with a tint of green
A few chunks of gray chicken
Bloated short-grain white rice with tiny divining rods at each end to soak up the salty broth
Shredded saltines float then drown
Chicken and rice is the Tuesday special.
Rice. Lice.
The cruel gruel in a labor camp
Grit in watery water scooped from unwashed pots just enough to keep the prisoners starving.
Debra L. Eder
I’m coming in late to the party so no writing in color yet, just wanted to give a plug for Maggie Nelson’s book Bluets , the incredible story of blue.
Hi, it's great to read everyone's beautiful sentences/paragraphs! I didn't keep up with the prompts last week, so today I did day 2. This was my favorite sentence that emerged:
"My son plunged his naked arm deep into the mud, pulled up fistful of orange, and smeared it over his skin, and soon all our limbs were the color of this desert clay, the color of the rim-falls pouring over the lips of cliffs lit by lightning, the color of these ancient rocks, the color of deep time."