Color-Curious

I am as curious about color as one would be visiting a new country, because I have never concentrated so closely on color expression. Up to now I have waited at the gates of the temple. – Henri Matisse

This summer, I am color-curious. I look out my living room window to the meadow and woods beyond. I congratulate myself for getting through the drab, bare winter into the spring that exploded with golden forsythia, and now unfolds to summer surrounded by all shades of verdant green.  I watch the jays flit and dip from branch to branch and then to the rail fence.  How did they get so blue? Who decided this would be a good color for them?  And the cardinals – bright red males and the beautiful dusky red females – who created that hue for them?  Are the sparrows, crows, and doves jealous? Do they yearn for a splash of bold color?  After a little research I found that blue jay feathers contain melanin, the brown pigment which is also responsible for human skin tone.  The blue color we see is caused by light scattering through cells on the surface of the feather barbs like magic. For the cardinals, their color also comes from melanin, but their red hues come from the chemical compounds, porphyrins and carotenoids.  I was so mesmerized by the science of color that I wondered about humming birds – how can that miracle be explained color-wise? Well, the hummingbird have special melanosomes, structures within a cell that store and synthesize melanin.  The hummingbird’s melansomes are shaped like pancake and contain many tiny air bubbles, which create a complex and multifaceted surface.  When light reflects and bounces off those surfaces, it produces iridescence. And this, along with nature’s abundant wonders, is  what makes humming so much more colorful than other birds.

I have always been color-curious.  As a little girl, I’d marvel for hours at a new big box of 120 Crayola crayons.  I wouldn’t want to use them and dull their points.  I just wanted to ponder their lovely colors, sort them by hue, pair them with shocking opposites. I loved the special names given to the colors.  They were like poetry to me.

Crayola Rhythm

Fuchsia
Flamingo
Carnation
Strawberry
Rose
Orchid
Plum
Thistle
Mulberry
Geranium
Vermillion
Madder Lake
Chestnut
Sunset
Bittersweet
Tumbleweed
Tangerine
Mango
Melon
Apricot
Peach
Banana
Maize
Goldenrod
Dandelion
Canary
Spring Green
Inchworm
Asparagus
Fern
Forest
Shamrock
Pine
Sky
Robin’s Egg
Aquamarine
Cerulean
Pacific
Periwinkle
Cornflower
Wisteria
Violet
Lavender
Indigo
Cobalt
Midnight
Celestial
Shadow

The whole world, as we experience it visually, comes to us through the mystic realm of color.  Our entire being is nourished by it.  This mystic quality of color should likewise find expression in a work of art. – Hans Hofman

This summer, I have found myself attracted to a local garden.  I am lucky that I can return again and again each week to witness the radiant changes.  I’ve been taking early morning walks along the gravel paths trying to spy new vegetation.  Each time, I am surprised. Abstract Expressionist artist, Hans Hofman, had once said,“ In nature, light creates the color, in the picture color creates the light.”  As a photographer, I am continually playing with how color and light fill the picture, how shadows play upon surfaces, how the color is muted or brightened, how it pleases the eye. 

Mystic Garden

Color-Curious

White, black, gray
What if...
What if the world
Was just that clear?
White, black, gray.
No diving jays,
No swaying tiger lilies,
No yellow heads
Of the dandelions
Emerging from cracks
In city sidewalks.
Only a  world 
of shadows and light 
Colorless ---
Until we see
The possibilities.
Until we pause to ponder 
The tiny hummingbird
Sipping nectar
From wild lupines and 
Purple-pink petunias.
Until we see beyond
White, black, and gray.