Facebook was fun this past week as people accepted and then challenged each other to post 7 days of black/white photos, sans people, showing things in their everyday life. It was interesting to look at the compositions and figure out stories based on the images. This challenge and seeing the results gave me a new appreciation for dimension which I notice is often lost in the color photos we post. The black/white photos look more poignant. And, sometimes, as in the case of my cactus garden an almost outer spacey "Look out ma, the aliens have landed,"composition. Remember all those black/white photos from Roswell, NM?
Black/white can also mean opposing viewpoints. It’s right up there with hot or cold, in or out, wet or dry, sweet or sour, and dead or alive. It looks amazing in photographs but is hard to apply to daily life. We need shades of gray to blur our edges. To smooth out the disagreements and soften the set in concrete ideas some of us are prone to espouse. But to make life pulse requires color.
I know I need color in my life. Color stimulates me, keeps me alert, makes me expectant and heightens my powers of observation. Along with my fellow fashionistas, I’ve tried to do capsule wardrobes. After carefully selecting/limiting my wardrobe to one or two-color pallets it quickly falls to the wayside like a failed diet. Before I know it, the navy, cream and black clothes are being shoved back and I am reaching for something printed, bright and vibrant.
I noticed after my husband passed, my perception of colors was so heightened that it was almost painful to look at bright colors. The yellow and red lantana seemed to vibrate, and bougainvillea in their various shades of fuchsia were mesmerizing. I felt sucked into every brilliant sunset. I wanted to climb up into the clouds thinking I might reach him. When you see a beautiful sunrise or sunset, don’t you want to ask people you care about if they are looking at it, too?