Category: Colour Theory

Studies in colour for the purpose of defining a personal style

Grey & Green

March 29, 2017

Grey isn’t always melancholic, sometimes she’s just indifferent, but lately she’s been going through a tough time. Her friend Green comes by for a visit and rather than go out and pretend to enjoy the insipid offerings of their city, they agree to stay in. Their primary activity is sipping tea while listening to the rain. Though it’s chilly out, Green insists on opening the window so she can smell the rain as well as hear it; she wants to completely immerse herself in nature. It’s early spring and the weather has been all over the place. Sometimes freezing, sometimes mild, usually snowing. Today the rain is diluting the snow into dirt and creating slush, and Grey wonders if she too is a mix of purity and filth. Perhaps we all are, muses Green, knowing everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses.

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Green suggests they play an intellectual board game, such as scrabble, as she’s keen to keep her most important muscle, her brain, in constant motion. Grey shrugs, as she could go either way. They play the game, with Green handily winning, as Grey doesn’t put in nearly as much effort. It isn’t that she doesn’t care about the game, but she knows from experience that Green hates to lose, as she’s got a bit of a jealous streak, and Grey is equally happy winning or losing, since she knows the distinction between the two is irrelevant. Life is meaningless either way.

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Green isn’t one to get exasperated, as she’s very patient and calm, but she rolls her eyes at Grey’s nihilism. She brings up the current political climate, wondering if we are destroying the world. Grey wisely points out that the world is better now, statistically speaking, than it’s ever been. And yet, no matter how good or bad the world is overall, for some it is a dystopia, and for others, a utopia. This dichotomy will always exist, argues Green, as the actual state of affairs is unimportant. What matters is perception. Some people are optimists, and others are pessimists. Yes, nods Grey, and some are a mix of both. Finally Green and Grey can agree, as they are both realists.

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Pink & Grey

March 22, 2017

It is a cool, misty morning when Grey awakes and greets the day. She’s unbothered by the drizzle outside, and some might say she even relishes it, only happy when she’s sad. She sits on her couch wrapped in a blanket and sips herbal tea, listening to melancholy podcasts about the duality of humanity’s nature. It is only when Pink comes over and drags her out of the house that Grey remembers there is an outside world. Pink is ready for anything but knows that her introverted friend would rather do something solitary and calm. They go to a museum where Pink rushes to the modern art section and asks Grey’s opinion of the pop art, which is her favourite. Grey is neutral on the subject, neither liking nor disliking the work. She isn’t exactly unmoved but is mostly indifferent.

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Disappointed in her friend’s opinion, or lack thereof, Pink drags Grey to a small bar with a live band covering pop hits from the 80s and 90s. Pink downs tropical drinks and dances in her seat, singing along to the songs. She tries to get Grey to join her but Grey remains immobile, sipping her whiskey slowly, thoughtfully. Finally the band is done and makes way for the beat poets. Grey nods as they discuss the inevitability of mortality in an indifferent world while Pink tries to hide her irritation. She makes an effort to listen, to really understand, and eventually she gets it, transforming into a dusty rose.

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“Shall we go, Pink?” asks Grey as the evening winds down and the poets have all turned to drowning their sorrows in drink. “Rose, call me Rose,” Pink replies evenly. Grey is only somewhat regretful at having brought out Pink’s emo side. She’s glad that they can go home in silence, both brooding about the day’s events, but she knows she’s squashed a little bit of Pink’s effervescence. She does nothing though, knowing that time will heal all wounds, and tomorrow is another day. Hopefully, another rainy day.

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Blue & Pink

March 15, 2017

“We want to go to the carnival!” squeal Pink and Blue. Their mother, Violet, smiles indulgently and hands them each a few coins so they can traipse down to the fair that has just set up shop in the heretofore empty field near their home. Once they’ve purchased their tickets, little Pink rushes over to the cotton candy stand, dragging her reluctant sister along. Blue insists she doesn’t need any candy but does accept the bites her sister offers. Then they’re off to the carousel where Blue sits on a dignified-looking swan, and Pink chooses a beautiful unicorn. Round and round they go, laughing with delight and pretending they are in a race, though both content to let the other be crowned the winner.

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They run off to enjoy more rides but Pink gets distracted by the fortune teller. Blue thinks this would be a waste of money, but Pink can see no harm in indulging in a little whimsy. Blue, always accommodating, gives in and sits patiently while Pink gets her fortune read, only rolling her eyes when her sister isn’t looking. They walk through the hall of mirrors holding hands, not because they are afraid to be separated, but because everything is more fun with a friend. Together they enjoy the bumper cars, the rollercoaster, and the tilt-a-whirl, but hesitate before going through the haunted house. They assure one another that they are not afraid and finally go through, giggling nervously. Pink takes it more seriously than Blue, and Blue protects her sister, assuring her that everything here is fake. They laugh at the ghosts and ghouls but both scream at the jump scares, then laugh some more.

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Finally they sit atop the Ferris wheel and swing their legs to make their seat shake, both enjoying the excitement of this carefully constructed danger. They ooh and aah at the vantage point this ride affords them, and peer at all the people below, who look like ants in a collective. Once home they regale their mother with tales of the carnival. Pink is a bit hyperbolic in her stories, and exaggerates how scared they were at the haunted house, and how high they were in the Ferris wheel. Blue is more reasonable and only tells the truth, yet is careful to omit the part where her sister overindulged in hot dogs and popcorn and threw up after the tilt-a-whirl. Once it’s bedtime, they tuck each other in and whisper long into the night about their exciting outing, and fall asleep with their heads touching.

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