“Color is the fruit of life.”
— Guillaume Apollinaire
Just in case you haven’t noticed, I love bright colors. It thrills me to no end that I live in a time when neon colors are in fashion, or at least, available to buy and wear if I choose. The neon pink hoodie on the rack draws me to it, and these days, even though it may not be “age appropriate” (whatever), I feel no fear in wearing it. There was a time when that wasn’t true. A very long time ago, I bought a pair of red Converse high tops. Both choice of style and color were a little “out there” for a girl. I loved those shoes, but I rarely wore them, afraid of what some people might think (I would love to have a talk with my late teen self!) Thankfully, I have grown past that fear, and wearing and surrounding myself with bright color makes me happy.
Color inspires my life and art.
Mother Nature, the Artist
In the past couple of years I have been taking pictures of flowers to use in my art. I am so inspired by the colors that nature provides: flowers, leaves turning in fall, sunsets, birds, lakes/oceans/skies with blues and greens too numerous to count. This is our grand 3D painting to live within! Seriously, the colors within flowers leave me speechless (and don’t get me started on the complexity in shapes, textures…the bottom-line-sheer-wonder of their existence).
No White Walls
There is something really appealing about white gallery walls, showing off the creative endeavors of artists. I also admire many of our friends’ walls, with spare groupings of art, nicely framed by white. But over the years, Mike and I have slowly drifted from white walls to not a single one in the house (the studio excepted).
In California, in the first house we owned, we painted the bedroom apple green and one of the living room walls was striped tan and purple. We thought we were adventurous. The realtor who sold the house for us confirmed this by making us paint over our colored walls in order to sell it.
The house we’ve lived in for 12 years is probably an assault on some folk’s senses, but each room is a different color. Although I’m feeling the need to repaint and change-up some of the colors, I can’t imagine painting them white.
Everyone has their palette, in their wardrobe, their home decorating, their art collection. Mine happens to be, currently at least, very bright. This might change, but today I have a vision: in 2045, I want to be 81 with purple hair (or maybe I’ll go gray, in spikes) wearing “age inappropriate” clothing, in neon colors that went out of fashion in 2016.