It's happening again. Books are lining up like doorways stretched out in front of me, charting a road to be traveled. I am not complaining. This integration of life and literature is one of my favorite things. But as I am looking at the books, and the color of this blog, I am seeing red and black.
I think it is true that we are drawn to the colors we need. So why I am drawn to red and black? Now that I think about it, they are the colors I want to put in my kitchen. Looking back on my notes for a workshop on emotions and color, I find that black is about death, obviously, but it is also about fear, mystery, power, and even style. I would say that at this point in my life I have a lot of fear around the mystery of death. It is not a stretch to say that I am in a power struggle with God over death, why he allowed it, etc. (Like I am going to be able to change the fact that it happens.)
Where does red come into play? Red is also about power, but maybe not so much from an authoritarian/ruler perspective, but, for me, more of an angry victim perspective. ("Why is all of this death and suffering happening around me? I don't deserve this.") Red is also about love, passion, and sensuality. All necessary fuel for the artist. Some days I feel like the five senses are on fire within me, inciting creativity. I think the fiery need to create is juxtapositioned with the solid, black, heavy mass that death is. I want to light it on fire. Okay, I am not going to be able to abolish it, but maybe I will be able to see it more clearly. To make some sense out of it.
Pictured Bibliography:
Traveling with Pomegranates (Sue Monk Kidd)
To Be Told (Dan Allender)
The Magic Mirror of M.C. Escher (Bruno Ernst)and one more to be written about on the next post.....
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