Colors posted 5/13/2008 7:06:32 AM | 12 kudos what's this?     report abuse

LaughTillYaPuke

I always thought I would be an artist when I grew up. It was the colors. I understood them. Their emotions, their language. And I understood how the things they were saying could change from one moment to the next. I always thought they were girls too. Sensitive, flowing, adapting to the world surrounding them. Sometimes instinctively knowing when to blend in so as to not shock the senses and rattle the brain. I thought it really didn't take all that much to mess with boys heads anyway. They were born with them scrambled.

There are certain places and times in life when the colors are the most brilliant. And I always thought it was wrong that it's usually when you are alone, or at your lowest and most humble. That that is when they were at their most grandiose and vibrant. Showing off for a crowd of one.

But perhaps the colors were all the more beautiful because I was alone. Nothing to distract me from their swirling tides. Laying on the wet earth letting the mud seep into my jeans. Watching the leaves drift down over me, carrying drops of rain with them. I found that color is all the more potent when wet, and lived for the rain.

And I felt that bugs were put on this earth for only one reason, to stun your senses when they moved or flew past your peripheral vision. That "wake you up" moment that almost takes your breath away. The iridescent green of their wings. The brilliant crimson markings on their back, the blue veins in embedded in their wings, and even the mirror of their eyes. And the bumble bees and caterpillars proved to me that color had texture as well. And I was forever trying to absorb it through my finger tips.

One of my momma's best friends was an artist. She said that she was a very beautiful woman who just did art all day long every day. I though that would be horrible. Like that purgatory those men in black talked about. To use the colors day after day, you would forget to appreciate them. Maybe even hate them.

But I looked at those pictures that my momma had, and they scared me. The colors were potent, but for the first time, they spoke angry words to me. I would put my hand in front of one eye when I went past her painting, my four little fingers blocking the giant thing out. Momma said her name was Viv, and I didn't even like her name. It sounded mean, hard and cruel. But that was the only pretty thing on her painting. Vivian. Sprawled in blue in the corner. And I remember thinking that a beautiful woman was hidden in there somewhere, but only the real her knew how to find it.

One day momma had us put on our matching dresses, we were going somewhere. I didn't pay much attention, I never did to be honest. All I knew was that if you were wearing a pretty dress and going to see people, momma loved you.

So we went to a building with a lot of hurt people, but most of them seemed happy. Loud music, I remember that. And a nice man who put me on top of his piano while he played. He even let me sing the animal crackers song. I could have spent the day with him. He gave me his jello, but his spoon had gravy bits still on it and I didn't want to use it so I said I wasn't hungry.

And then momma came and got me. Angry. I must have done something again, but I couldn't remember what. I never could. It was from not paying attention she said. Grabbing me by my wrist so fast I had to skip on my tip toes to keep up. And there she was. The pretty lady from momma's pictures. Sitting in a wheel chair, painting one of those horrible pictures. And momma lifted her arm out next to the picture, the one still attached to my wrist so I was lifted right in front of the lady.

Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)

Blogs by LaughTillYaPuke: The Gum Tree The Age of Reason Felonies and other Petty Crimes What are You Looking for Rattling the Bones Spit In the Eye of the Devil The Best Damn Wayside EVER Coming into My Own Daddy's Girl Enough Already Trees Around My Heart The Mother Tree Colors The Most Beautiful Place on Earth Mother Barn In The Beginning TESTIFY!!! She's a Real Mother Alright..... Sharp Dead Toe Nails Melee Come to Life The Game....Part III The Game....Part II The Game....Part I Portrait........Portrayal