Living in colour

I hear that color is energy, I don’t get the science of it but have always been able to feel it. Before I started wanting to wear purple most days, different days had different colors. It wasn’t a conscious thing, more like how the weather is or rather how I felt about the weather… I would want to wear a color, not because I liked it, though I happened to, but because a color fit a particular day. There were a lot of green days when I when I was a teenager. Yellow days were rare and very special, there was something unusual about those days, like anything could happen. Red days were kinda frequent though pretty rare these days and black has ever and always been either a going to war day or one of deep sorrow. It cocoons and protects not in a comforting way the way pink might, but in a warrior way and sometimes is necessary. Mostly black feels uneasy for me, smothering even. What I am talking about is the way the colors feels. I have heard that some blind people can sense color and this resonates for me. Still my world, or rather my walls were mostly milky white and not too creamy. I took a chance a few years ago and painted my home a soft peach, I remember being nervous, like when I was little and facing jumping off the high diving board into the bottomless pool below, there was so much color in the can, even though it was a gentle color. A beige peach, almost neutral… a warm ivory peach, a custom color I went back to the store again and again to alter the formula just ever so slightly till it was just the right dull peach, like a very light salmon but not at all fishy. It proved to be such an easy color to live in. It basked my life in graciousness and life was very good, or so it seems looking back, peachy even. I lived in this for many years and they were fertile gentle years cocooned in these ever soft and peaceful walls like a light as air duvet that kept the tigers away. … Till I really took the plunge and painted my tiny sanctuary “August Morning” and living in orange so rich and yet still earthy, a little bit muddy and still so true, changed my life. It infused it with an energy and vibrancy that seemed to balance a something that had taken too deep a hold… When I moved recently the colours latest incarnation evolved into mango, brilliant almost neon yet not at all, a pure colour. It glows ever tropical and full of promise. This color is the epitome of faith and has carried me, for one of my spiritual sisters died this year. This color is the antithesis to sadness and still has the wisdom within it to allow for mourning, while ever reminding me of life’s brilliance and lack of remorse. For death is not a mistake, it’s what I signed on for when I was born I remind myself again and again, and still it’s so lonesome without her. These glowing walls warm my saddened heart and soul, somehow mourning in orange makes sense. I can let myself feels such deep sorrow while trusting that I won’t loose my grip, that I won’t slip because such a warm color is all and ever about tenacity.