Skip to main content

Black Friday

Today's colour is black. My sister will tell me that black is all colours, or is it the absence of all colour...or is that white??? Obviously she is the artist, I am not. My love of colour does not come from a technical knowledge of the colour spectrum, it comes from feeling. I feel colours. I see colours. If you were standing in front of me I would see and feel your colour. My colour today is black.
For someone who loves colour so much, for years I wore black. LOTS of black. I thought a was wearing black for it's renowned slimming effect, for edgy funk and tough girl image. But the truth is I hid in black. I hid away my colours. My energy for life. I was afraid that if I wore the sort of colours I felt, that I would not fit in or worse still, I would be laughed at. These things were very important to me at the time. Fitting in, being accepted. Even now, although I have come along way, I still hold back. Inside I am just a rainbow of colour, spinning and swirling and shining. I often feel completely false. My outside appearance betraying my inner being. It is a work in progress.

But today IS black. Numb. Still. Unsure. Hiding.

Today is my first Friday off with school back. I have taken Fridays off as a "me" day. Since my recent touch with life's fragility (more on that another day) I am attempting to achieve a life/work balance. However all it does it make me yearn for more time alone. It feels like a tease. Like "this is what you need, this is what you deserve, this is IT........but you only get a sneak preview. Better than nothing?? Not sure that it is. Like I said. Black.

However, now that I have this time. I am determined to be authentic in every moment of it. Take this blog for example. This is scary. But this is me. Today I am black, so be it.

Comments

  1. So very proud of you. Looking forward to reading your next installment. More than glad to see you moving forward in colour. I've seen how good you look in black, but OMG you look awesome in colour. Love you always, Lee. xxx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Black is an excellent colour to hide in, and to delve into deep parts of ourselves. Use it.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Broken free

I made an angel. Created her out of clay. Painstakingly I sculpted and moulded her. I loved her. I loved her heavy wings, they way they sheltered her and protected her heart. I loved that tiny heart, the way she looked down on to it "I will always look after you" she whispered, "you are safe".  Until the day she broke.   My son rang me on my way home. His voice was shaky, apprehensive. "Something terrible has happened" he mumbled. Moving straight into mother mode, I panicked. "What is it?? Are you ok??" "I broke her...I didn't mean to... she fell...I tried to catch her...I wasn't quick enough"  Oh My god... who?, where? What the?????? "Your angel mum... she smashed!!" The poor boy. He knew I loved her, created her, protected her. But the sense of relief was instant. Just a sculpture, not a life, a girl or an animal. Just a sculpture. It wasn't long however that the realisation of what had just...

Dream-song - A Tribute to Shavarnia

Once upon a time there was a girl. A girl with aspirations and dreams. Dreams of colour, of movement, of dance. Of spirit and angels and love. As the girl grew she was taught a great many things. How to walk, how to hold herself, what to think, what to wear, how to act. The girl with the dreams kept dreaming but her dreams were now in the background and her REAL life was all around her. Every now and then the girl would focus on her forgotten dream and in return the dream would sing to her. The dream-song was so beautiful. It sang of a life of purpose and peace. The girl tried to follow the music of her dream-song however she often lost her way and the song would fade into the background again. After many years of this following and fading, the girl fell to her knees and wept. She wept for the dream lost. She wept for the futility of her REAL life. Her face awash with broken hearted tears, the girl gave up. Gave up trying to find balance between her dreams and her responsibi...

Neuralyze me

Remember the Neuralyzer from the MIB (Men In Black) movies? One zap and all memory of what just happened was erased! Zappo. Gone! No-one ran from the scene in hysterics, screaming Aliens, Aliens, we’re all going to die! No one went home and built alien proof homes or developed elaborate alien detection systems…preparing for the worst. One zap and they simply continued their day, completely unaware and at peace in the moment. So, I have been thinking about this (and learning some stuff too). What if we couldn’t remember our past experiences? I mean really, didn’t know what we had been doing or feeling back there. What if we didn’t have any memory of our job, our finances, our likes and dis-likes?  What if we couldn’t conjure up past agreements with ourselves, ‘I’ll never do that again, I’ll be better next time, I won’t break it, drop it, lose it!” I wonder what we would do if we woke up one day with just the daylight and nothing else? How then, would our day unfold? I t...