Maybe it is because L is such a devoted artist. Or perhaps as I grow into myself as a poet, but I seem to be noticing all the subtle colors around me more and more.
Thrusday, while at the Wexner Center in the cafe, I was looking at the bright luminous sun and marveling at the color of the edges of the clouds dancing around the sun. The edges of the clouds were kissed with the subtle tones of pink and orange.
This morning on an arguably gray day, the sky was an amazing shade of violet gray. The depth of the color in places in striking counter point to the flat white gray of the upper sky (or the rain dotted sky out my window as I type.)
There is something about the subtle of life. Maybe I am seeing it now, because I am open to seeing it or perhaps it really does come with age.
Or are the colors a metaphor for the emotions which imbibe our lives. Is the violet purple the manifestation of melancholy? Is the jaunty pinks and oranges - the brightness of an excited mood?
I am not sure if there is a connection, but I am sure that the colors of our lives matter. They matter alot.