Green & Black

Green, somewhat distraught by her recent interactions with Grey, decides to seek out her good friend Black. Black can always be counted on to take control of any situation, and steer it in the right direction. Black takes Green downtown, where they walk down the most bustling street in the city. Green confesses to having turned somewhat teal after her day with Grey, and wonders if there is anything to be done about the current state of affairs. What state of affairs, wonders Black suspiciously. Green acknowledges that the world is neither good nor bad, and what some perceive as a dystopia is a utopia for others, and vice versa, and yet, she feels certain that she can do something to bring the utopia closer for all, or at least even the playing field somewhat. She’s never thought of herself as an idealist, but she knows there are things that could be done, and she’s never been afraid of hard work.

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Black, with a twinkle in her eye, smiles slyly and takes Green’s arm, leading her down an alleyway populated by dumpsters, broken bottles, and discarded cigarette butts. Look around, what do you see, asks Black. Garbage and graffiti, answers Green. Graffiti? Are you sure? Green wonders what Black is getting at, and looks more closely at the scene before her. She sees it now. It’s not graffiti, it’s art. The walls of the alley are covered in strikingly lovely murals. The colours are bright and intermingling, and add a warmth to this otherwise foreboding alley, even on a cold spring day such as today.

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Yes, I understand that everything is a matter of perspective, I’ve already noted that, says Green, slightly impatient. No, you don’t get it, chuckles Black. It’s not a matter of noticing something dirty and perceiving it as beauty, it’s a matter of deciding something is beautiful because it is dirty. There can be no light without dark, and no beauty without ugliness, but true contentment lies in finding comfort in the dark, in what is normally distasteful. Finding the power that lies in the twisted and obscure. If I were a sensitive sort, I’d be offended that everyone equates me with bad, muses Black. But I revel in it. I find strength in it. This artwork is only impressive because it’s in an alleyway. Context matters. If these same murals were in a museum they would be bland and uninteresting. But here, the trash that surrounds the art elevates the art. Here, among the debris of the city, the murals remind us to always look up, because there is more than what lies at our feet. We can soar if we are willing to reach.

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Grey & Green

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

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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