By Queen Oset
“Life is indeed colouful. We can feel in the pink one day, with our bank balances comfortably in the black, and the grass seemingly no greener on the other side of the fence. Then out of the blue, something tiresome happens that makes us see red, turn ashen white, even purple with rage. Maybe controlling our varying emotions is just ‘colour management’ by another name”
- Alex Morritt
What is it about colours? you’d ask; especially since I am the one writing about them (I mean, what lawyer writes about colours, yeah?)
I’d reply that by saying that “I am not just a lawyer”, I am a creative mind. (simple). If you need more explanation on that, see me in person or call, or ping, or mail, or… let’s get back to COLOURS.
I’m not a beautician nor a fashionista nor an artist but, I have an intense love for colours and I’ve gone ahead to conduct researches and further study about them.
Let me tell you what my keen fascination with colours is about.
Yup, you heard me right! – Or is it read me right. Colours speak.
Picture these with me;
The young lady with bright orange lips…
The man in the lemon green suit…
The woman with the lemon yellow tote bag…
I think that’s a lot of noise up there. Bright orange, lemon green, lemon yellow… (What’s with all these lemon-something shades anyway?) They scream “notice me!” They scream attention. The wearers of those colours are not necessarily saying or doing anything out of the ordinary but, you can’t go by them and not take a second glance and maybe a third (depending on how hawtthe babe is *wink*)
Moving on. Let’s go again;
Blue skies, green grasses, red roses, red-patched earth… colours again.
These speak of the calmness and beauty of nature. They subtly tell of the relief and succor nature breathes.
Imagine if we had “cloudy skies, long thing grasses, thorny roses, patched earth…” one word – boring!
Colours bring life to life. Imagine a world without colours… no happy-go-lucky girls in bright canary summer dresses, no goal-getting woman in blood-red lipstick and white pearls, no fortune 500 boss in navy pinstriped suit and golden wristwatch, no grandmas in leaf green frocks and grandpas in beige pants, no fast red cars and metallic-hued trucks, no red roses and purple violets… it hurts my mind to think of those.
“My world was the size of a crayon box, and it took every colour to draw her”
- Sarah Kay
How can I forget to mention the glamourous long black sequined dresses and satin-lapelled tuxedoes? The velvet bowties and golden champagne? Blazing silver lights? That’s blitz and glam all the way baby!
The grey cloudy skies? Rain! Add the silver flashing lights and we have a possible thunderstorm!
Black suits, black dresses and hats, a brown or white gold-rimmed box… pale tear-stricken faces? A funeral. Death is a dull colour.
I try to imagine life as a writer without colours… gbese! How would I perfectly paint the picture of the car-crushed black kid by the roadside as it bleats on in pain, succumbing to the cold grip of death? It might not be impossible but, you wouldn’t get a vivid picture.
I don’t even want to go on to the artist. Theirs, if it existed, would be a boring colourless profession.
I appear in a black skirt suit, white shirt and white bib and I don’t have to introduce myself as a lawyer. A guy in a white ward coat does not necessarily have to plaster his certificate on his head before I know he has something to do with the medical world neither does the tattooed Caucasian with arms weighing more than a block of concrete clad in orange overalls have to announce his residency as an inmate of the United States Department of Correction.
Ever looked into a pair of brown eyes? Blue eyes?
Blue denims, white tees…
The rainbow! Who talks about colours and forgets that colourful assemblage of a promise.
Lemme digress into something else. See, the average writer has a problem with the average piece they pen – how to end it. I have that problem right now and I thought if I confessed, it would help.
So now that you know that I don’t know how to end this piece, here I go.
“One should be a painter. As a writer, I feel the beauty, which is almost entirely colour, very subtle, very changeable, running over my pen, as if you poured a large jug of champagne over a hairpin”
- Virginia Woolf
Queen’s Note: I don’t always don’t-know-how-to end my writings so, if you’d like to catch up on the pieces I could find perfect endings to and the ones I couldn’t, you could go on my blog at www.queenoset.wordpress.com. Feel free to be mad at my inconsistency.
Love & Grace.
NOTE BY LORDJOSH: In case you missed the news, I am stepping up this writing game and I am launching my website on the 1st of December. Get a dose of the madness and subscribe here and get DEMONS ON CHURCH STREET eBook for free.